


Best Seat in the House

by hero_complex_girl



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: AJ Carmichael is a creep, ALL THE FIRSTS, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, But he's still a smol bean, Diego is a softie, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Five and Klaus are besties, Five doesn't know what to do with affection, Five is obviously of age, HE GETS ALL THE AFFECTION ANYWAY HAHAHA, Klaus is the best friend we all need, Luther is the BEST big brother, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Must be all the coffee stunting his growth, Nobody is related (except Luther and Five), Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Past Child Abuse, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, height difference kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28820085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hero_complex_girl/pseuds/hero_complex_girl
Summary: Based on the prompt: All the seats in this huge fucking lecture hall and you have to sit right next to me?Or,Five gets annoyed, gets feelings, and somehow, gets himself a boyfriend.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz, Number Five | The Boy/Diego Hargreeves
Comments: 71
Kudos: 113





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So.  
> I’m absolute shit at writing brief stories and I’ve been told by multiple professors that I should try using prompts as a way to focus on writing drabbles and/or short pieces.  
> Reader, that’s exactly what I meant to do. I swear. But when my eyes fell on this prompt, my brain said, “Nah, baby. We’re going for a riiiide.” And, well, who am I to argue? Needless to say, this exercise in brevity was a complete fucking flop and I have never been more grateful.

It’s only eight in the morning and Five already wants to kill somebody. Namely,  _ one  _ somebody. 

The Hispanic man next to him drops his bag carelessly to the floor and flops himself into the seat next to Five, flashing him a megawatt smile. “Hey, I’m Diego,” he says with a wink. 

Diego. 

Five wants to kill  _ Diego. _

“Hey, I didn’t ask,” Five grumbles, taking a sip of his coffee. He subtly casts a glance around the lecture hall, mentally calculating that there are at  _ least  _ fifty other seats available. Aren’t there unspoken rules about this kind of thing? Just like in a regular classroom where everyone silently makes a pact to sit in the same seat every day? There  _ has  _ to be a rule about sitting next to someone in a room this fucking huge. 

“Ah, feisty, huh?” Diego teases. He smiles lazily at Five before folding his arms behind his head and propping his feet up on the back of the seat in front of him. 

“Why are you sitting here?” Five asks bluntly. “There’s a whole room full of seats you could have chosen from.”

“I  _ did _ choose,” Diego replies, flashing him another smile that makes Five’s heart stutter in his chest. “And I chose this one.”

Five scowls. “You had to pick the seat  _ right  _ next to me? I’m certain that that’s against some kind of unspoken lecture hall rule.”

“Well lucky for you, I’ve never been a fan of playing by the rules.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Five before he bends over to riffle through his bag.

“Yeah, lucky me,” Five deadpans, turning his attention to the front as the professor walks in. He frowns as he realizes his heart is still beating funny. “Must be the coffee,” he mutters to himself as he opens the notebook in front of him. 

_ Lord,  _ it’s going to be a long morning. 

~~~

Two days later, Five finds himself in the lecture hall once again.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as he walks down the rows of seats. What happened on Monday was most likely a fluke, a mistake in his own calculations. Diego, who Five reluctantly learned was a year ahead of him, has probably been in this lecture hall before, and therefore, already has a favorite seat. Five must have mistakenly encroached on his territory. Well, that was fixable. 

Five passes the row of seats he sat in on Monday and keeps walking until he’s almost at the back of the room. He turns down the aisle on his right and walks nearly to the end of the row, plopping himself down in a chair and giving a sigh of relief. He doesn’t see as well from the back, but it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make for an hour’s worth of peace. 

He spends a few minutes going over his notes from last class as he blissfully sips his coffee, the quiet murmurs of his classmates blending into the background. The professor chirps a cheerful hello as she bustles into the room, arms full of papers, books, and other miscellaneous objects. Five lets out a sigh when she walks over to the blackboard with a piece of chalk. He’ll never be able to see what she writes from back here. He rummages through his bag for a moment, trying to feel for the case holding his glasses. Eventually, he’s successful, slipping them out and onto the bridge of his nose. He’s so busy fighting with the zipper on his bag that he doesn’t notice the body sitting down next to him until he straightens up again, startling a bit. Five immediately glares at the familiar face, opening his mouth to ask what he wants, but the other man gets in the first word.

“Hey,” Diego smiles, peeling open a banana. “The glasses are a cute look.”

Five’s mouth snaps shut without his approval, a hot sensation spreading over his cheeks. Christ, is he  _ blushing? _

“I gotta wonder why you’re sitting all the way back here if you have a hard time seeing,” Diego continues, taking a large bite of banana and raising his eyebrows in question.

_ To get away from you _ , Five thinks meanly.  _ But clearly that didn’t work. Why are you sitting by me again? You have the whole fucking classroom! Go sit by some of the other meatheads around here. Surely you’re friends with some of them.  _

Five wants to say these things to Diego very badly, but when he opens his mouth to voice his opinion, nothing comes out. After a few failed attempts of opening and closing his mouth like a fish, he snaps his jaw shut and faces forward. His face is still flushed and his heart is thrumming as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Diego’s gaze is heavy on him and he can’t  _ think _ . 

Five clenches and unclenches his jaw as he tries to gain some control over his body. He rapidly clicks the top of his pen, hoping the snapping sound will ground him. 

“I…”  _ want you to go away. I want you to sit somewhere else and leave me alone. I want to drop this stupid fucking psychology class and never come back again but I can’t because this is a required course. _

He means to voice all of these reasons, really, he does. But all that comes out is a strangled, “I’m… not  _ cute _ .” 

Diego laughs lightly at the statement. He carelessly plops his banana peel onto the seat next to him before draping a thick, muscled arm along the back of Five’s chair. “Whatever you say, doll,” he purrs, sending Five one last smile before he gives his attention to the professor. 

Five’s brain seems to short-circuit at the words, making it hard for him to remember anything from class later that night as he studies. He knows the lesson today was on Freud, but he doesn’t recall any useful information on the subject. The only thing he recalls is the feel of Diego’s arm settled along the back of his chair and the way his voice sounded as he called him doll. 

~~~

Five plays this little game with Diego for another two weeks.

He shows up to class ten minutes before it starts, Diego sits down next to him with two minutes to spare, Diego sends him a  charming ridiculous smile, and Five scowls at him before ignoring his very existence. Five knows that most people would be  _ thrilled _ to make a new friend so quickly without even trying, but Five is not most people. Five doesn’t  _ need  _ friends or  _ want  _ friends. Diego is not his friend. Diego is a menace who significantly increases his blood pressure on a near daily basis. Diego is bad for his health. 

And then Five gets a brilliant idea. 

Five has never been a fan of being late for class. Something about it makes his skin feel cold and clammy, as if he’s doing something wrong. What’s that phrase Dave is always chirping at Klaus? To be early is on time and to be on time is late? Yeah, that’s exactly how Five feels. He’d rather chew off his own foot than step into class after it starts, but the end result would definitely be worth it. 

Or so he thinks. 

It goes according to plan at first. Five hides behind a group of chatting students and impatiently watches the minutes tick by on his watch. Eventually, Diego makes an appearance, casually strolling by Five and smiling politely at some girl that tries to flirt with him. He then disappears through the door of the lecture hall, leaving behind the scent of his rich, earthy cologne that seems to permanently reside in Five’s nasal passages. Five taps his foot on the linoleum, willing the minutes to go faster. 

A few more minutes drag by as students unwillingly shuffle off to their classes and Five takes that as his cue to finally enter the room. He quickly makes his way to the stairs in the middle of the room and simultaneously peeks at the seats. Diego is sitting in his usual spot next to Five’s chair, sending Five a grin and a wink as they lock eyes. Five musters up as much sarcasm as he can and sends it all back in a nasty smile, quickly walking past the isle Diego is seated in and making his way toward the back. He plops himself down in a chair that  _ isn’t  _ sat next to anyone and takes a celebratory drink of coffee, not even caring that it scalds the roof of his mouth. He’s  _ finally  _ found a solution to his problem and he’s never felt more satisfied.

Most of the class carries on like normal, the professor awkwardly fumbling through her presentation slides on the history of psychology. She drones on about how there are far too many historical moments in the field to cover in an intro class--

“--and so I’m pairing you all with a partner to do some research on one of the topics I have listed. You’ll have four weeks to do your research, write an essay on the topic, and finally, give a small presentation to your peers so they can all benefit from what you’ve learned.”

Five quickly clicks the top of his pen in annoyance, barely biting back a groan. He has no problem doing research and giving a presentation. Hell, he does research every night for  _ fun _ . He just doesn’t want to do it with another person. People are dumb and lazy and Five would most likely end up doing the entire thing on his own anyway.

He sighs and raises his hand, planning on asking if he can do one of the projects on his own. 

The professor either ignores him or doesn’t see him, instead picking up a sheet sitting on the table behind her. She squints and brings the paper close to her face. “Now, I already have your partners picked out so don’t get excited about working with your friends.” 

Five clenches his jaw and lowers his hand. So much for that idea. 

“When I call your names, please get together with your partner and start discussing which topic you’d like to research. You have these last ten minutes to write down your top three choices and give me the slip of paper. Don’t forget to exchange contact information so you can meet outside of class! We have so many topics to discuss here that we won’t have time to do research in class.”

Five huffs as he reluctantly shoves his stuff into his bag. It looks like there’s no getting out of this one. 

“--Jamie Hunt and Lonnie West, Cameron Johnson and Ashley Ball, Five Hargreeves and Diego  Castañeda--”

Five inhales sharply through his nose, wanting nothing more than to smash his own head into his desk. What God did he piss off to condemn him to this fate? Is this how his life will be from now on, being constantly pulled into Diego’s orbit the harder he tries to get away from it? 

“Hey, doll.” 

Five cringes and reluctantly turns to look at the other man. Diego has made himself at home in the seat next to his and is grinning wolfishly. There’s a sharp glint in his brown eyes, a triumphant  _ told-you-so  _ that makes Five want to jab him in the eyeballs with his pen.

“Don’t call me that,” Five hisses. He can’t help the blush that spreads over his cheeks at the endearment. 

A rich, throaty chuckle greets his ears and he barely suppresses a shiver at the sound. He focuses instead on the way Diego’s hand rips a sheet of paper from his notebook and messily scrawls their name on the top of it.

“Five, huh? That’s a different name.”

Five rolls his eyes and drums his fingers on his desk, forcing his eyes to stare at the screen in the front of the room.

“So, you have any preference? Any topic that stands out to you?” 

Five sighs through his nose, willing himself to calm down. “No. I  _ despise _ this subject. It’s all up to you, pal.” 

“Hey now,” Diego says, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Psychology has done a lot of good for a lot of people.”

Five can’t even come up with a witty remark because  _ he knows.  _ He’s spent  _ years  _ sitting in a stuffy room with a therapist talking about his own issues. He knows the benefits it has, what it can do for people like him. And wasn’t this something his therapist had wanted him to work on? His impulsiveness to lash out when feeling cornered? 

Five takes a deep breath through his nose and clenches his jaw. “I know,” he grits out. “I just mean that… I just… I have no preference.” Who was this creature that was so easily tongue-tied? Had someone magically swapped bodies with him this morning? 

Diego sends him one of his blinding smiles before he scribbles something on the paper. “I’ll mark us down for the history of mental institutions. That’s always an interesting topic.”

“Great,” Five mutters. He quickly stands and grabs his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder. He tries to shuffle past Diego to join his other classmates that are shuffling out the door, but a hand on his wrist stops him. He abruptly jerks to a halt, not expecting the contact, and looks down at his wrist. Diego’s hand is pleasantly warm against his skin, if a little rough in texture. Five is momentarily distracted by the way the tanned skin is able to curl all the way around his wrist. 

“--I have your number?”

Five blinks, tearing his eyes away from his wrist, heart beating in his throat. 

“Huh?” he asks dumbly.

Diego chuckles, letting go of Five’s wrist. The tiniest feeling of disappointment wells up inside of Five, but he frowns at it and pushes it down, filing it away to analyze at another time. 

“I asked if I could have your number. We’ll have to meet outside of class to do research.”

_ Yes, I know the instructions. I was present for the whole fucking class,  _ Five wants to say. He barely holds back the retort.  _ Barely.  _ He opts for jerkily nodding his head instead. 

“Great,” Diego smirks, standing up and pulling his phone from his pocket. And,  _ wow _ , Five has never realized how tall Diego is. He’s got to be almost a whole foot taller than Five. This newfound revelation makes him feel funny, makes something swoop low in his belly. Five ignores it, passing it off as indigestion. 

“Here you go. Just punch your number in and you can be on your merry way.”

Five grabs the phone from him and squints at the device. The screen is cracked in two places and the case seems to be falling apart, but somehow it’s exactly what Five was expecting. He carefully pushes the numbers in and hands it back to Diego, trying his best not to think about how he can count the number of people who have his number saved on exactly one hand. 

“Awesome,” Diego smiles, shoving his phone back in his pocket and grabbing his bag. “I’ll see you Monday,  _ partner _ .” With that, he lightly grazes his fingertips over Five’s shoulder before turning and walking away. Five stands there and watches as he hands the paper to the professor with his usual charming smile. He then turns his head and sends Five a wink before walking confidently out the door. The blush on his cheeks returns with a vengeance, the room suddenly feeling too hot and stuffy. 

As he stumbles his way to the door, he can't help but be thankful that his other class is canceled for the day. He’s not sure he’d be able to properly sit through it with the ghost of Diego’s hand and fingers imprinted on his flushed skin. 

  
~~~

Five’s mind is so wrapped up in what happened during class that he doesn’t even think about giving Klaus a warning knock on the door. Instead, he robotically grabs the keys from his pocket and breezes into the room, only to be met with the sight of Dave’s naked ass. 

Five gives a very unmanly squeak and slaps his hands over his eyes. 

“Christ on a  _ cracker _ , Five. You’re supposed to knock for a reason!” Klaus shouts. 

“Yeah, yeah, I forgot. Just put some damn clothes on,” Five hisses, ears picking up on the sound of rustling fabric, the bed frame creaking, and a suspicious wet noise. “If you guys are trying to  _ finish,  _ I swear to god--”

“ _ Relax, _ Fivey. We finished right before you came in,” Klaus soothes, voice dropping to a murmur as he adds, “Great way to kill an afterglow.”

Five drops his hands in favor of shooting Klaus a glare, which is met with an innocent smile and the batting of eyelashes. 

“Don’t try to be cute,” Five grumbles, letting his bag fall to the floor before he sits heavily on his mattress. Feeling a migraine coming on, he rubs at his temples. He shoots Dave a quick glance, wondering if he has any Advil with him. Thankfully, Dave has managed to slide on some boxers and a pair of sweatpants. Klaus, on the other hand, is wearing nothing but his bedsheet. Five just rolls his eyes and wonders how many times he’s going to have to see Klaus naked in his lifetime. 

“Migraine?” Dave asks, already reaching for his backpack. 

Five nods wordlessly, thanking his lucky stars that Dave is one of  _ those people  _ that carries around first aid supplies. 

“Perks of being friends with a med student!” Klaus pipes up, reaching for a bottle of nail polish next to his bed. 

Five hums in agreement. He’s mostly thankful that Klaus is dating someone capable of both wiping his tears  _ and  _ stitching him back together if need be, but he’ll never admit that. It’s just… Klaus doesn’t always make the best decisions and Five  _ worries.  _

“You should really get those migraines checked out,” Dave says gently, sitting at the foot of Klaus’s bed. “It could be something serious.” 

“Oh, usually I’d agree with you Dave, but I know  _ exactly  _ what brought this one on,” Five mutters. He swallows the pills dry before toeing his shoes off and laying back on his bed. 

“Oooh, do tell,” Klaus pipes up.

“It’s stupid.”

“Can’t be that stupid if it’s causing you daily headaches,” Dave assures him.

Five sighs as he stares up at his ceiling, not sure where to begin. So, like any good story, he starts at the beginning. He tells the two other men about the infuriating Diego Castañeda and his lack of seat-distance etiquette. He tells them about his genius plan to sit as far away as possible from Diego. He tells them about how they got paired up for the next project and how Diego hadn’t let him leave without stealing Five’s number first.

By the time he’s finished, Dave and Klaus are suspiciously quiet. Five rolls his head to the side to look at them. Dave is clearly hiding a smile behind his water bottle and Klaus is looking at Five with big eyes, his perfectly polished hand resting over his heart. 

“What?” Five demands, propping himself up on his elbows. “What are those looks for?”

“Aw,  _ baby _ ,” Klaus coos. Five cringes. “I think it’s pretty obvious that he likes you.” 

Five feels his face heat up at the words, spluttering, “No he  _ doesn’t.  _ He just--he doesn’t  _ like _ \--why would you  _ think _ \--”

“I think I have to agree with Klaus,” Dave interjects. “Do you really think any man would go through the trouble of sitting next to you every day if he didn’t want your attention?”

“And the fact that you sat in a different seat every day just proves our point,” Klaus adds, twisting the cap back on his nail polish and setting it on his dresser. He then stands up, pulling the sheet with him, and walks himself over to Five’s bed. He plops himself down next to Five with a smile and runs a gentle finger down Five’s cheek. Five halfheartedly slaps at his hand, knowing damn well that it’s no use. If Klaus wants physical touch, he’s going to get physical touch. “And what’s not to like?” Klaus continues. “You’re gorgeous, Fivey. The creamy skin, the pretty green eyes, that fucking  _ dimple _ . You’re every twink-lovers wet dream. Hell, I’m getting moist just thinking about it.”

Five rolls his eyes but gives the slightest shake of his head. He knows what he looks like. He knows that he’s not terrible looking. He also knows that he doesn’t have the best self-esteem. It’s something that he and his therapist are continuously working on. 

Back then, when Reginald had still been alive, Five had been more interested in  _ surviving _ than vanity. Physical appearances had been shoved to the back burner for the first thirteen years of his life. Suffice to say, once he’d been adopted and introduced to the world of hairstyles and clothing fashion, he’d felt eons behind everyone else his age. While everyone else had been worried about getting their hands on the latest Gucci bags or Armani shirts, Five had just been discovering that  _ attraction  _ was a real thing, that some of the football players at his school made him feel weak-kneed and tongue-tied just by flashing him something as simple as a smile. Of course, this revelation had made Five wonder if  _ he  _ made anyone feel the same way, ultimately leading him to spend hours in front of the mirror gazing at his own reflection and frowning when he realized that he didn’t have the masculine jawline or manly appearance that his fellow classmates did. Instead, he had dainty hands, fair skin, delicate bones. He was  _ pretty  _ and he didn’t know how to feel about it. 

“Hey now,” Klaus says, poking Five in the chest. “In this room, we love ourselves unconditionally. Get those self-deprecating thoughts out of your mind and embrace your hotness for what it is!”

“How inspirational,” Five grumbles, biting his cheek to keep from cracking a smile. 

“You know what I think you need?” Klaus asks, grinning like a shark.

“I’m really hoping you’ll tell me.”

“I think you need to get  _ laid. _ ”

Five blushes furiously and sits up. “That’s your answer to  _ everything,  _ Klaus.”

“He’s got a point, sunshine,” Dave adds. “You literally suggest that for  _ everything _ .” 

Klaus pouts. “It’s not my fault you’re so hot, Davey. Anyway, that’s  _ beside  _ my point. I just meant that it might be beneficial to let yourself loose for a few hours and get a good dicking, you know? You’re always so tense. Even if you don’t have feelings for this, this man--”

“Diego.”

“-- _ yes,  _ this  _ Diego _ , I’m willing to bet my left testicle that he’d still be willing to let you take a nice, long ride on the dick express.”

“Jesus, Klaus, you’re going to turn him off of sex completely,” Dave groans, covering his face with his hands. 

“Mission already accomplished,” Five says, getting up from his bed and dodging Klaus’s grabby hands. He quickly grabs his backpack from the floor and slings it onto his shoulder.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t leave, babe,” Klaus whines as Five reaches for the doorknob. “You know I’m teasing you. You’ll have sex when you’re good and ready!” 

Five sighs and opens the door. “While I  _ love  _ the quality of this particular conversation, I have some papers to write. And Dave?”

Dave, with a lapful of naked Klaus, looks up at him with a questioning gaze.

“Please use some febreeze after you have round two. It already reeks of jizz in here.”

~~~

Five isn’t lying. He  _ does  _ have papers to write. Two of them, in fact. His focus is only slightly hampered by someone sitting in his usual corner spot in the library. He supposes it’s his own fault for not coming right after class. These seem to be the peak studying hours, after all. 

He's finished with one paper and halfway done with the second when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He frowns a little, thinking that it’s too early for his brother to be texting him about meeting up for dinner. Then again, Luther’s a big guy. He probably needs ten meals a day. Hell, Five has  _ seen  _ him eat ten meals a day. But when he fishes his phone out of his pocket, he frowns at the unknown number. Then his heart promptly leaps into his throat at the message. 

From: Unknown Number

hey, its your favorite psych partner

12:02 PM

Five blinks at it for a few moments, trying to get his breathing under control. His mind flashes back to the conversation he had with Klaus and he can almost picture it; him on his back, all hot and squirmy while Diego grins down at him with that handsome face, teeth all sharp and white in the glow of Five’s room. Five can almost feel the rough slide of Diego’s stubble against his own smooth cheek, the sensitive skin of his neck, his lips, the way his hips feel nestled in the crevice of Fives thighs--

Five hisses at a sudden pain in his hand. He looks down and sees his own pencil digging roughly into his palm. Blood wells up beneath the tip and he quickly sets it down on the table, eyes scanning the room to see if anyone noticed his little display. Thankfully, everyone is too preoccupied with their own studies to cast him a concerned glance. 

He runs his unbloodied palm over his face, flushing in embarrassment at his perverted thoughts. 

_ Get a fucking grip,  _ he thinks.  _ He’s texting you for the assignment, not to try and fuck you. Stop being weird.  _

He closes his eyes and takes a few calming breaths, just like his therapist taught him to. Miraculously, it works, allowing him to pick the phone up with a clear head and only a slightly shaky hand. He first adds Diego's name to his contacts before he responds. 

To: Diego

The word favorite might be too strong.

12:06 PM

He feels a tiny niggle of guilt pull at the back of his mind. He knows Diego doesn’t deserve to put up with his brashness, but for some reason, he can’t help it. He wears it like protective armor, like the world is out to harm him. 

Before he has the chance to dwell more on his guilt, Diego’s response makes him raise his eyebrows. 

From: Diego

lol your cute

12:07 PM

Cute. Five is  _ cute.  _ Diego isn’t offended and he thinks Five is  _ cute.  _

Five’s lip curls up a bit at the corner, the guilt vanishing. Something settles in his chest, making his heartbeat slow to a normal pace. 

Before Five can think of any kind of response, another text buzzes in.

From: Diego

did you get the profs email? she already assigned the projects to everyone

12:07 PM

Five frowns, sitting up and clicking the tab on his computer where his email is opened. Sure enough, the professor has emailed the class with their designated assignments. Five scans the message, noting that he and Diego got their first choice.  _ Diego’s  _ first choice, anyway. Five still couldn’t care less. 

To: Diego

History of mental institutions. Can’t wait. 

12:10 PM

From: Diego

don’t sound so excited lol

anyway

you wanna get a head start on this thing?

like tomorrow??

12:11 PM

Five’s heart thuds hard in his chest. He wasn’t planning on seeing Diego again until at  _ least  _ Monday during class, but he supposes it makes sense to start the project sooner rather than later. 

To: Diego

Fine. 8am in the library.

12:15 PM

From: Diego

8am on a saturday??? dont you sleep like the rest of us?

12:16 PM

To: Diego

We don’t have to.

12:17 PM

From: Diego

fine, fine. you drive a hard bargain kid

12:17 PM

Five rolls his eyes at that.

To: Diego

I’m not a kid.

12:18 PM

From: Diego

trust me babe, i know *winky face*

12:18 PM

Five’s mouth is suddenly dry. He reaches for his water bottle and downs half the liquid, trying to think of an appropriate response. Eventually, he just settles for something simple. 

To: Diego

8 it is.

12:21 PM

From: Diego

great! can’t wait

12:22 PM

Five groans and lays his head on the table. Diego is going to be the death of him. 

~~~

Five’s morning is going  _ terribly. _

First, he manages to sleep through his alarm, which he  _ never  _ does, much to Klaus’s annoyance. Because of this, he doesn’t have time to do his proper washing routine in the shower, leaving him annoyed and off-kilter as he tries to pick out clothes. 

Then, after he pulls on his favorite pair of slacks, he’s horrified to hear the ripping of fabric as he bends over. He has the strangest urge to cry when he realizes that they’ve torn up the butt. Klaus, apparently sensing a catastrophic fit on the horizon, leaps over Dave’s sleeping form and starts digging through Five’s clothes, muttering about how he’ll make Five look bangable yet, so help him  _ god _ . He eventually thrusts a pair of grey skinny jeans and a white sweater into Five’s arms. The jeans are, well, skin tight and not at all what Five enjoys wearing, but he’ll be damned if they don’t make his legs and butt look good. The sweater, on the other hand, is absolutely ridiculous. It’s humongous and pretty much swallows Five’s torso whole, but it’s very soft on the inside and the sleeves curl over his fingertips just the way he likes. So, while not his preferred slacks and blazer, the outfit isn’t a  _ total _ loss. 

And then, seeing he’s running late, he zooms his way over to his favorite coffee shop on campus, only to read a sign about how they are  _ unfortunately  _ out of coffee beans this morning due to the delivery driver getting into an accident. If looks could kill, the sign would have been obliterated. 

Needless to say, when Five finally sets foot in the library, he’s beyond pissed off. 

It only takes him a moment to spot Diego at the corner table, looking as irritatingly handsome and put-together as ever. He huffs to himself as he makes his way over, slumping into the chair across from the Hispanic and yanking his laptop out of his bag. 

“Good morning, sunshine!” Diego chirps, flashing that dumb smile of his. He then takes a peek at his watch--how  _ classy _ \--and raises an eyebrow. “Hm, twenty minutes late. For a while there, I thought you weren’t going to show.” 

Five sends him a tight smile as he boots up his computer. “You could say I’ve been having an  _ off  _ morning.”

Diego hums. “I’m listening.”

Five huffs, gritting his teeth as he says, “I woke up late, my favorite pants have a tear down the bottom, I haven’t had any caffeine this morning, and I kind of feel like stabbing anyone who so much as  _ breathes  _ in my direction.”

Diego chuckles softly, making Five’s gaze snap up from his laptop. He’s not sure what’s so funny about the situation. 

“What’s so funny?” Five demands, scowling at the older man. 

“Oh, nothing,” Diego responds, clearing his throat and attempting to look serious. He then bends over and reaches for something in his bag, pulling out a thermos a few moments later. He sets it on the table between them and nudges it over to Five. “It might not be from a coffee shop, but it might help a  _ little _ with the caffeine cravings.” 

Five blinks at the thermos dumbly, looking back and forth between the cup and Diego. He squints at the other man and slowly reaches out to grab it. Grasping the warm metal in his hand, he brings it up to his nose and gives the opening a sniff, the smell of fresh coffee making his toes curl pleasantly in his shoes. 

“Are… are you sure?” he asks, hating the uncertainty lacing his voice. 

“Absolutely,” Diego responds, folding his arms across his broad chest. “You seem to need it more than I do.”

Hesitantly, Five brings it to his lips and takes a sip. His eyes widen in surprise, the taste of it like heaven on his taste buds. He’s usually not one for doctoring up his coffee, but there’s some kind of sweet spice added to it that’s surprisingly enjoyable. He lets the hot liquid sit on his tongue for a few moments before he swallows it, blinking up through his lashes at Diego. 

“You like?” Diego asks, a smirk forming on his perfect lips. 

As the caffeine settles into his bloodstream, Five blushes, murmuring, “It’s… satisfactory.”

“It’s homemade, baby. Plenty more where that came from,” Diego winks, opening up his own laptop. 

Five doesn’t want to think about the implications behind  _ that  _ particular sentence. Instead, he brings the thermos to his lips once more and takes another heavenly swallow. 

“So,” Diego continues. “You have any knowledge about psychiatric institutions? How they used to treat their patients?” 

Five relaxes into his seat at the question. He can do this, he can do  _ facts.  _

“Not great. Horrendous, actually. Treated them like they were diseased.”

Diego hums in agreement. “Thank god for progress, am I right? Not just for the environments of institutions but for therapy methods in general. I can’t imagine the things my therapist would have told me if shit was still the same.” 

Five’s fingers freeze over the letters of his keyboard, his eyes locking with Diego’s. He doesn’t even think before he asks. It just tumbles from his mouth in a rush, like word vomit. “You have a therapist?” The blood rushes in his ears as he waits for a reply. 

“Well, not anymore. Used to, though. It really helped me deal with my emotions better. I guess you could say I had a lot of built-up anger.” Diego shrugs and continues typing on his computer, as if confessing his issues to people is a common occurrence. 

Five blinks and cocks his head, studying Diego’s face. He can’t quite imagine the carefree expression of this man twisted up in rage, doesn’t  _ want  _ to imagine it. “You seem fine,” he comments, cringing internally. He knows better than anyone how much outward appearances can be deceiving. 

Diego chuckles a little. The crinkles at the corner of his eyes make Five’s heart feel funny. 

“Well sure. I was taught healthy coping mechanisms. It’s all pretty fascinating, actually--the different ways therapy can help people. I guess that’s why I wanted to be a psych major.”

Not much surprises Five, but for some reason, this confession does. 

“Oh? Well, that’s… commendable.” He then frowns at the other man. “But I thought you were a junior? Why are you starting your intro class  _ now _ ?” 

“I wanted to get the basics for my other major out of the way first. Save the best one for last, you know?”

No, five doesn’t know. He’s a math major and that’s his  _ only  _ one.

“Hm, double major,” he murmurs. “Impressive.” 

“Thanks,” Diego grins. “Let me guess. You’re some sort of art major.”

Five honest to god  _ snorts  _ at that. “ _ Christ _ , no. Mathematics, actually.”

“Mm.” Diego waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Big brain energy, huh? That’s hot.”

Five blushes and averts his gaze to his computer. He shrugs self-consciously and says, “Numbers are the only things that have ever really made sense to me.” 

“Well, I think that’s  _ awesome _ .” 

As he meets Diego’s gaze once more, a feeling of shyness washes over him.

“I’m complete shit at math, but now I know someone who can tutor me.”

Five just sits there and blinks at him, wondering how someone like Diego can be so  _ open  _ about their shortcomings. In a way, it makes Five uncomfortable, all of this information being hurled at him like it’s nothing, as if he doesn't struggle every day coming to terms with  _ himself  _ about his own issues. He wonders how Diego does it, how he can be so carefree and confident all the time. He wishes, only a little, that that degree of sureness could rub off on him. 

“So, anyway,” Diego says, “about the assignm--”

“I see a therapist.” 

Five doesn’t really know why he says it. It’s a well-hidden secret kept between him and his family. It’s not so much that he’s  _ ashamed  _ of needing therapy that makes it a sensitive topic. It’s the fact that he’s needed it every month for  _ years  _ that makes him embarrassed. In a way, it makes him feel weak, like the outer shell he’s worked so hard on maintaining is slowly being chiseled away. But he  _ knows  _ that that type of thinking isn’t healthy because he  _ has  _ learned a few things in therapy, thank you very much. It’s just… he understands that mental healing takes time, but sometimes he just wishes his brain would hurry the fuck up. He can almost hear the melodic voice of his therapist in his mind, assuring him that  _ you’ve grown by leaps and bounds since I first saw you, but everyone heals at their own pace, Five. Just one foot in front of the other. Don’t pay any mind to the length of other peoples’ journeys.  _

So, he decides to chalk up his hesitancy on the subject to  _ not quite being there yet.  _ As for why he told Diego just now, well, there’s just something about the other man that makes him feel oddly at ease, makes the tension in his gut uncoil, if only for a few moments. Diego has given Five a personal glimpse into his past, and for some reason, it feels oddly fitting that he shares a small part of himself in return.

“Hey, that’s great,” Diego says, sending him a gentle smile. He then nods with his head toward the window, gesturing to the building across from the library. “I’m not sure if you’ve ever visited the mental health center, but there's a team of awesome people in there. They also have therapists available around the clock for emergencies, so if you ever need to talk to someone asap, that’s the place to go. And, of course, I’m always willing to lend an ear.”

Five doesn’t say anything,  _ can’t  _ say anything due to the large lump that has formed in his throat. For some reason, his confession has left him exhausted. He’s also just a  _ little  _ proud of himself for sharing his secret, like he doesn’t have to carry the brunt of that weight alone any longer. 

Five sends Diego a hesitant smile and lets him take the lead on the project, content for once to just sit back and listen to the other man speak passionately about a subject he clearly loves. He notices the way Diego’s eyes light up as he speaks about different therapy techniques, the warm pools of brown shimmering under the fluorescent lighting. He notices how he’s not afraid to use his whole body to tell a story, arms flinging open and wide as he explains something to Five. He  _ also  _ notices the way Diego’s black sweater clings to his chest, leaving no room for imagination, how the scar on his eyebrow dances with his different expressions, how his voice takes on a lower, more baritone sound as he tries to tease a laugh out of Five. 

But most importantly, with his heart fluttering in his chest and his cheeks flushing under the other man’s gaze, he comes to the realization that he just might like Diego Castañeda.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luther is the best big brother and Five comes to a realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for AJ being a creep.

From: Diego

what does pavlov use on his hair?

1:32 PM

Five blinks down at the text, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach as he sees Diego’s name pop up. He doesn’t even have time to think of a reply before another text chimes in.

From: Diego

classical conditioning!

1:32 PM

Five suppresses the urge to laugh. As far as jokes go, it’s _terrible,_ but he feels a warmth settle in his chest nonetheless.

To: Diego

That’s atrocious.

1:33 PM

From: Diego

*sad face*

i have more where that came from

*winky face*

1:34 PM

“I’m sure you do, you big idiot,” Five murmurs to himself. He spears a piece of pasta with his fork and nibbles on it. He casts a quick glance around the cafeteria, wondering where the hell Luther is. His brother said he’d wanted to join him for lunch today, and yet, no sign of said man.

From: Diego

watcha doin?

1:35 PM

Five can’t hold back his smile this time, his lips curling up at the edges. 

To: Diego

Eating lunch with my brother. Or, I would be if he’d show up.

1:36 PM

From: Diego

awww i can join you if your lonely

1:36 PM

Five is sure that he’s blushing up to his roots by this point. The thought of spending more time with Diego is… not unpleasant. They did, after all, spend four hours together yesterday in the library. Between off-topic conversations and snack breaks, they’d managed to gather all of the resources for their paper. Now all they have left to do is write it and create a powerpoint presentation. 

_Then he’ll have no reason to text you anymore,_ his mind whispers. 

Five frowns at the thought. He’s used to his phone being silent, nobody texting him besides Luther, his parents, and occasionally Klaus. But… there’s something weirdly thrilling about seeing Diego’s name pop up on his screen. Addicting, almost. Like coffee. 

A hand suddenly smacks down on his table, making Five jump and drop his fork. He whips his head up with wide eyes, gut souring and face turning down into a frown at the person standing before him. 

A.J. Carmichael. 

Him and A.J. share a few math classes, the other man always trying to upstage everyone with his _mathematical prowess,_ as he liked to call it. Five calls it pure bullshit. 

“Ah, my favorite little genius,” A.J. coos. He has the audacity to reach over and stroke Five’s cheek with a cold finger. Five stiffens in his seat and leans away from the touch. He no longer feels hungry. 

A.J. also has a creepy fascination with Five, always weaseling his way into Five’s space, always watching and _touching._ It makes Five uncomfortable. 

“What do you want, Carmichael?” Five grits through his teeth. 

A.J. tuts at him, like Five is a child, and clasps a hand around Five’s shoulder. It feels like an iron manacle. “Relax, baby doll, I just wanted to come say hello to my favorite classmate.”

Five shivers at the pet name. It’s not a pleasant sound, not like when Diego says it. When Diego uses pet names on him, it’s all warmth and sugary sweetness, full of teasing smiles and kind eyes. When A.J. says it, it’s lead lining the bottom of his stomach. 

“I don’t like you,” Five says evenly, glaring up at him. “So why don’t you make yourself disappear?”

A.J. snorts and his oily grin widens. The grip on Five’s shoulder becomes a little painful, fingernails digging into sensitive skin. “Let’s cut the bullshit, Five. I’ve seen you looking at me--”

Five scoffs at that. “Then you need some glasses, asshole.”

“--and I’m sure it’s obvious by now that I like _you_ . So why don’t we cut to the chase?” A.J. leans impossibly closer, face inches away from Five’s. “When are we gonna fuck, hm? You can’t just keep _teasing_ me, sweets. If I gotta look at this tight little body every day, you gotta give me something in exchange.”

“I want nothing to do with you, A.J.,” Five hisses, heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“Oh, contraire, little one. I think you’d love to get under this body, make some sweet noises for me--”

“I suggest you remove your hand from my brother before I break your arm.”

Both Five and A.J. jump at the voice. Five relaxes immediately upon seeing Luther’s face, his pissed-off expression aimed at A.J. Thankfully, A.J. releases his hold on Five’s shoulder. 

A.J. looks at Luther with narrowed eyes, taking in his hulking form. “Ah, of course, the dashing big brother,” he says, trying to charm Luther. It doesn’t work. “We were just discussing the pythagorean theorem, nothing to get into a snit about.”

“I don’t care,” Luther says bluntly. “Make yourself scarce, fish lips.” 

A.J.’s face turns red at the comment, his mouth opening and closing in anger. Eventually, he sends a sneer toward Five, saying, “I’ll be seeing you around, Five.” 

Five watches in relief as he storms off. He swallows thickly as he relaxes into his seat, massaging the tender skin of his shoulder. He dreads having to deal with A.J. later.

“What was that about?” Luther questions, sliding into the chair opposite Five. He immediately tucks into one of four sandwiches he has, eyes never leaving Five’s face. 

Five sighs and shakes his head. “Just… some guy from my math class being weird.” 

“Weird? Five, he was practically groping you. Do you need me to report him?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to kick--”

“Luther, don’t lose your scholarship for beating up some worthless asshole,” Five interrupts, rolling his eyes. He then melts a bit under Luther’s protective gaze. “I… appreciate the gesture but I can handle it. I never even talk to him outside of class. This was just an unfortunate coincidence.”

Luther swallows and gives Five a serious look. “Five, if he does this kind of thing in front of everyone in a cafeteria, imagine what he could do if he found you alone.” 

“Well it’s a good thing my big brother taught me self-defense,” Five says, smile brittle. 

Luther looks at him for a moment, gaze firm and calculating. He then sighs through his nose. “Fine. But if I see it one more time, you can’t stop me from beating his ass.”

Five hides a small smile behind his water bottle. “Fair enough.”

Five spends the rest of the meal chatting with Luther about classes, about their parents, and whatever else comes to mind. Despite Luther being his adoptive brother, Five feels a deep connection with the big man, always feels safe around him, can let his guard down around him. This feeling, more often than not, leads to Five spending Saturday nights in Luther’s dorm, eating popcorn and watching movies until he eventually falls asleep against Luther’s chest and soils his shirt with a puddle of drool. Quite frankly, it’s a little embarrassing to wake up snuggled against your brother, and he’d vehemently deny it if anyone ever asks. But Five secretly craves physical touch, goes all quiet and dopey when he’s wrapped in a hug, the release of oxytocin in his brain making him as docile as a kitten. He’s not sure if it’s the natural response to physical affection, but he supposes that that’s what happens when someone goes the first thirteen years of their life without ever getting so much as a high five. And full body hugs? Reginald had thought they were _absurd and a gateway to complete and utter weakness. You’re a man, Five, and I expect you to act like one._

So. If Five spends some nights drooling against his brother, that’s nobody’s business but his. 

Toward the end of their meal, as Luther starts yammering on about his girlfriend Allison, Five remembers that he never texted Diego back. He feels a little guilty, wondering if Diego is perhaps sitting by his phone and waiting for a response. The thought sends a small thrill up his spine. 

To: Diego

Sorry, brother showed up

2:13 PM

From: Diego

no worries, theres always next time

*winky face*

2:14 PM

Five smiles down at his phone. A part of him hopes that there _is_ a next time. 

“What’s got you so smiley?” Luther asks, eyebrows raised in question. An amused smile is playing on his lips. 

Five shrugs nonchalantly, spearing the last bits of pasta with his fork. “Just someone from class.”

Luther’s eyes widen a fraction in surprise. It makes Five grit his teeth a bit, sets him on edge, but he understands the reaction. Besides Klaus and Dave, Five isn’t known for making friends easily. And Klaus, well, Five really had no say in the making of _that_ friendship. Klaus saw him the first day he walked into their high school, all scrawny and terrified, and had decided that Five was his new best friend. Five had been too overcome with culture shock from stepping foot into an _actual school_ to argue with him on the matter. As for his friendship with Dave, well, who _wouldn’t_ be friends with Dave? Level-headed, kind, brave, handsome. He’s the whole package, and Five isn’t sure he could trust someone who _doesn’t_ like Dave. 

“Oh,” Luther says, clearing his throat in an attempt to reign in his surprise. “Well, that’s wonderful, Five. I’m glad you’re making friends.”

“I’m… not sure if we’re _friends,_ exactly, but--”

“ _Oh,_ ” Luther interrupts, eyes going wide once more. “Is this _more_ than a friend? Like a, a friend with benefits?”

Five visibly recoils at the words spilling from his brother’s lips. “Jesus, Luther, _no._ ” 

Luther sighs in relief and sags back in his chair. “Well, that’s a relief. I really didn’t want to give you the whole ‘don’t get anyone pregnant’ speech.”

“Luther, I’m gay.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Luther shrugs. “So, what’s their name?”

Five squirms a bit under his gaze. “Diego. We’re in the same psychology class. We were partnered together to do a project.”

“That’s great! Just as long as studying comes first and sex comes--”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Five growls, a blush staining his cheeks. “We’re just working on a project together, Luther. Nothing more. Now if you’ll excuse me, I told Klaus I would watch The Old Guard with him on Netflix.”

Luther holds up his hands in surrender. “All right, bud. I’m just trying to look out for you.” 

The two of them get up and collect their belongings, Five just barely shoving his phone into his pocket before Luther is pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. He smiles into his brother’s chest and gives him a small squeeze in return, breathing in the spicy scent of Luther’s cologne. It’s familiar, calming, sort of like how Diego’s makes him feel as he’s hovering close to Five in his seat--

Five pulls back abruptly at his train of thought, clearing his throat. His lips quirk into a half-smile as he says, “See you around, Luther.” 

On the walk back to his dorm, Five can’t help but wonder what eating lunch with Diego would have been like. 

~~~

When Monday comes, Five finds himself oddly nervous about going to class. He chalks it up to Monday jitters at first, the weird transition from weekend to school mode always throwing him off a bit. But when he starts picturing Diego sauntering into the room with his boyish grin and tight sweaters, his pulse starts to flutter and his hands start to feel sweaty. A solid rock forms in the pit of his stomach as he realizes that perhaps his newfound positive feelings toward the man have turned into _more_ than friendly feelings. Maybe Luther was right and Five’s developed, dare he say it, a _crush_ on Diego? How does one even know if they like someone _more_ than a friend? Hell, he barely even knows Diego, minus the couple of hours they’ve spent together in the library. One can’t just develop a crush at the drop of a hat, can they? 

So, with a solid forty-five minutes before class, Five does what he does best and googles _how to know if you have a crush on someone._ He clicks on a random website and squirms on his bed as he reads off the list:

  1. You feel happy thinking about them
  2. You’re curious about what they’re up to
  3. You also feel stressed thinking about them
  4. You fantasize about them
  5. You do things for their attention



Five knows not to trust everything he reads on the internet. Half of it’s garbage, anyway, but the article makes him cringe, nonetheless, as he realizes that he checks almost all the boxes. He isn’t sure if _happy_ would be the right descriptor when thinking about Diego, but the feelings have slowly developed into more positive territory over the course of a few days. And stressed? Well, duh. He can’t even think of Diego’s _smile_ without breaking out into a sweat and feeling all nervous.

Five is a bit more reluctant to agree with number two and four, but that doesn’t make them any less true. Five _does_ sometimes think about what Diego is doing. Is he hanging out with friends that Five doesn’t know about? Is he doing his homework, that little confused crease between his brows crinkling as he tries to solve a problem? Does he have a _girlfriend_ that he’s visiting with? Laughing with? Hugging? Kissing? 

Five’s gut turns to stone as he imagines it; Diego, holding the hand of some pretty girl--and she _would_ be pretty. Five is sure Diego could charm the pants off of anyone he wanted--as they make plans for the weekend. They’d probably go to the movies or do something utterly and _sickeningly_ romantic, like go strawberry picking and feed each other by hand. Then they’d probably laugh and kiss each other breathless as soon as they were back on campus. Diego would push her back onto the bed, slowly strip off his shirt with that teasing smile of his, move his hands to her waist--

The door to Five’s room bangs open, making Five jump and immediately drop the fantasy. Well, there’s the check for number four. 

“You look like you’ve smelled something funny,” Klaus chirps as he slams the door shut behind him. His hair is wet and curling slightly at the ends, a towel slung around his neck. The creamy skin of his neck is mottled with dark bruises, alarming Five for a second before he remembers that Klaus spent the night in Dave’s room. 

Five ignores the comment, pointing out, “You might want to wear a scarf to class, otherwise people might start to talk.” 

Klaus just grins and throws his towel at Five, who barely catches it before it hits him square in the face. “Maybe. Maybe not.” His gaze then turns thoughtful as he reaches into his closet. “Then again, Dave _did_ just buy me that lovely pink scarf…”

Five sighs as he grabs his backpack from the floor. “I’m just saying. People might think someone was trying to choke you to death, Klaus.”

Klaus looks completely offended for a moment, nostrils flaring. “Dave would _never_ hurt me. Jesus, Five.”

“I know.” He holds up his hands in surrender. “I _know_ that. I’m just saying, it looks a bit bad at first glance. Maybe tell Dave to lay off a bit?” He throws in a teasing smile for Klaus’s benefit, trying to get a smile out of the other man before he leaves. If there’s one thing Five absolutely can’t live with, it’s someone upsetting Klaus, especially if it’s himself who causes it.

Thankfully it works, a tiny smile flickering back onto Klaus’s lips. He shrugs and grabs the gaudy pink scarf and adjusts it around his neck. “Hm. Fine. They’d probably be jealous that they don’t have a Dave in their life, anyway.”

“I’m sure, pal,” Five replies, glad that he’s successfully avoided an interrogation from the other man. “I’m off to class. See ya.”

“Have _fuuuun_!” Klaus sing-songs, making Five cringe as he steps through the door. Once it’s firmly shut behind him, Five takes a deep, calming breath and tries to settle his nerves as he thinks again about the article. So he ticks four of the five boxes. So what? It’s still better than ticking _all_ of them. And he would never even _think_ of going out of his way to get someone’s attention. That’s a level of desperation that Five is too proud and stubborn to ever hit. 

So, with that small sliver of satisfaction, Five holds his head high and sets off to class, ignoring the butterflies in his belly the whole way.

~~~

Thankfully the coffee shop is open again, so Five orders his usual before slipping into the lecture hall. He settles into his seat and takes a swig of the coffee, letting the cup warm his cold hands, and abruptly frowns at the taste. Though it’s the same thing he orders every day-- _one tall, black coffee. No cream or sugar, thanks_ \--it tastes bland to his pallet. It does a good job warming him down to his toes, but it lacks the _oomph_ it usually has. 

He frowns to himself as he thinks back to Diego and the library. The coffee Diego had given him in that old, beat-up thermos had tasted like heaven as it washed across his tongue. The sweet spices had been enough to make Five smile behind his laptop, all the while still being caffeinated enough to keep him awake.

Five holds his coffee up to his face and glares at the bland, cardboard cup. Curse Diego and his ability to ruin plain coffee for him. 

Five sighs deeply and sets the cup on the floor, carefully nudging it beneath his seat. He accepts the fact that he’ll be tired and grumpy for the remainder of the day. 

He busies himself with pulling out his notebook and pen, his heart doing a weird flip in his chest the moment he spots Diego breezing through the door. A tiny shiver goes up his spine when Diego locks eyes with him and grins, taking the steps two at a time to the row Five is sitting in and plops himself down. A waft of his musky cologne hits Five’s nose, causing him to curl his toes pleasantly in his shoes. It also makes him relax a fraction, his fluttering heart no longer feeling as if it will burst from his chest. 

“Hey, doll,” Diego greets warmly. Five is momentarily distracted by the tight, black sweater he’s wearing, but manages to give a nod in response. Diego then frowns at him and Five immediately thinks he’s done something wrong. The look makes him feel like he’s a specimen beneath a microscope, just there to be analyzed. His skin suddenly feels itchy and too tight over his bones. He swallows thickly and opens his mouth to ask Diego why he’s giving him that look, but Diego beats him to it.

“Is your coffee shop still closed?”

Five blinks at him, the question taking him off guard. He then realizes that his coffee isn’t sitting on the desk where it usually resides.

“Oh,” he says dumbly. “No, I--”

“Well, it’s your lucky day,” Diego interrupts, pulling the same beat-up thermos from the water bottle holder on his backpack. “I just _happened_ to take one with me this morning. We don’t want you all caffeine-deprived, now do we?”

Five can’t find his voice to answer the Hispanic man. Instead, he nods his head in agreement and gently takes the coffee from Diego’s hand. Their fingertips brush momentarily, making the breath catch in Five’s throat. 

_Get a grip. It’s his fucking_ fingertips, _for christ’s sake. What, you gonna pop a boner if he flashes you his ankles next?_

“Yeah,” he murmurs, hands starting to sweat again as he holds Diego’s brown gaze. “They’re… closed.” He softly nudges his own coffee further beneath the seat, sending a silent apology to whatever janitor has to pick it up after class is over. 

Diego settles into his seat and starts to chatter about their project, throwing an arm casually over the back of Five’s chair. He leaves it there the entire class period, fingers drumming a pattern into the wood as he listens to the professor with a laser-like focus. Five can barely pay attention to a thing the professor says, too hyper-focused on the warmth of Diego’s body next to his, the feel of his arm brushing the back of his neck. It makes him giddy and nervous at the same time, unsure if he should move even an inch in fear of disrupting whatever spell Diego is under. Five both wants Diego to leave his arm there _and_ take it away, the conflicted feelings making his hands and armpits sweat. So Five does what he does best: he endures. He sits there stiff as a board the entire hour, feeling slightly drunk on Diego’s smell as he mechanically sips from his coffee.

The end of class is both a blessing and a curse. Diego finally takes his arm back, his warmth going with him. Five wants to lean toward him, have that heat sink back into his sweater, but he restrains himself and thinks about how he needs to get a grip. 

“You done with that?” Diego asks, nodding to the thermos.

Five doesn’t even _know_.

He carefully lifts the beverage from his desk and is surprised to feel it empty. He nods, peeking at Diego through his lashes. “Yeah. Thanks again.”

Diego smiles and says, “Anytime.” He stuffs the thermos into his bag and stands up, watching Five for a moment as he gathers his stuff. “So,” he continues, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Do you wanna go get some lunch? We can continue working on our project. Or just chat. Whatever you want.”

Five holds back a laugh, his nervousness dissipating for a moment. “Diego, it’s nine in the morning. I haven’t even had _breakfast_ yet.” 

“Breakfast then? I know this great diner across town. Their pancakes are to die for.”

Five’s initial reaction is to make a sarcastic response, but his therapist’s voice rings in his head and he immediately squashes the urge. A part of him also doesn’t want to hurt Diego’s feelings. He actually _wants_ Diego to like him. 

“That… sounds lovely. But I have class after this.” Five’s not sure if he’s imagining the disappointment shining in Diego’s eyes or if it’s just wishful thinking. “I also haven’t eaten breakfast in years.”

Diego lets out a fake gasp, clutching a hand to his heart. “But breakfast is the most important meal of the day! Maybe this is why you’re so short, all of the milk and wheaties you’re missing out on. Or maybe all the coffee you drink is stunting your growth.” 

Five splutters, cheeks heating up under Diego’s playful grin. He tries desperately to think of a response to the jab but all he comes up with is a squawk of, “I’m not short!” 

Diego coos. “Of course not, baby. You’re fun-sized.” He then proceeds to lean into Five’s space, the wonderful smell of him once again filling Five’s nose. Five’s heart beats faster as Diego’s face nears his own, making him freeze in place, pulse thrumming in his veins. The taller man’s lips eventually stop next to Five’s ear, the gentle breath against his neck making him shiver. A few heartbeats later, Diego whispers, “But some people are _really_ into the height difference.” 

The fucker then has the audacity to pull back, send Five a smirk, and saunter away. Five blinks at the empty space in front of him where Diego stood moments before, a warm feeling rushing through his chest. Five certainly isn’t an expert on relationships, but had Diego been, dare he say, _flirting_ with him? He feels a multitude of emotions all at once: giddiness, fear, doubt, excitement. But most of all, he feels _exhausted._ And it’s only Monday. He has so many questions he wants to ask, can feel them forming in his mind for later analysis, but right now he needs to get to his next class. 

Trying to shove thoughts of a certain handsome Hispanic to the back of his mind--and failing _miserably_ \--Five grabs his bag with shaky hands and makes his way to his next class.

~~~

While Five remembers bits and pieces from his music class--and honestly, _why_ is it a required class when he can just as easily pick apart a song on the damn radio?--he remembers nothing about the walk back to his dorm, his mind immediately filling with thoughts of Diego again. He merely _blinks_ and he’s standing in front of his dorm room, trying to ignore the phantom feeling of Diego’s breath against his ear. 

He gives a few courtesy knocks, and upon hearing no shouts of protest, he lets himself in. Dave and Klaus are huddled close together on Klaus’s bed, looking over a textbook with frowns on their faces. The sight would usually make Five smile, knowing that Dave has once again succeeded in getting Klaus to do his homework, but Five just swallows thickly as the two look up to greet him. 

“Oh, hey Fivey,” Klaus says, frowning almost immediately. Damn him and his hyper-awareness of emotions. “What’s wrong?”

For a moment, Five thinks about telling him that everything is wonderful and peachy, but Klaus has always been able to see right through his bullshit. He doubts this would be the exception. Not to mention, it will be good for him to verbalize his thoughts, just like his therapist has taught him.

So, without thinking about it for fear of chickening out, he blurts, “I think I like someone.”

It sounds utterly ridiculous rolling off his tongue, pathetic, in a way. But his hypothesis is correct. He feels a lot better having said it, his gut fully unclenching for the first time all day. 

“Oh,” Klaus replies, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. He carefully closes the textbook and shoves it aside, giving Five his full attention. “Do tell.” 

Five swallows again as he sits on his bed and toes his shoes off. He glances up at the other two, both of them watching and patiently waiting for him to elaborate. He gives a small shrug. “Well, I… I _think_ I might like someone. But I just… how do you _know_?”

Klaus gives a small giggle, causing Dave to elbow him gently in the side.

“Well,” Dave speaks up, clearing his throat. “How does this person make you feel?”

“Hot. Itchy.” Five grimaces. “Overwhelmed, like my heart is trying to beat out of my chest.”

“Those are certainly some signs,” Dave continues, giving him a gentle smile. “What about nervousness? Or happiness when you see them smile?”

Five can’t help the tiny smile that forms on his lips as he thinks about Diego’s smile, those white teeth and full lips. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“What makes you question it, then?” Klaus asks.

Five blows out a breath. “I’ve only known him for a few weeks. Certainly you can’t develop _f_ _eelings_ for someone in that short amount of time, right?”

“Anything is possible when it comes to the heart,” Dave responds, ever the romantic. Klaus coos at him and rewards his boyfriend with a sweet kiss to the cheek. 

Five rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that might be easier to believe coming from someone else. You fell in love with Klaus the moment you laid eyes on him.” 

“Sometimes you just know,” Klaus shrugs. “If your heart is doing flips and shit when you see them, and you’re not sure whether you want to run for the hills or hump them into the floor, then you’ve _definitely_ got yourself a crush.”

“I do _not_ want to hump him into the floor,” Five hisses, turning beet red. 

“Ok. How about holding hands then?” Dave asks, giving Klaus a disappointed look. “Or even the thought of kissing them? Of _being_ kissed by them?”

Five runs a hand through his hair and lets out a slightly hysterical laugh. He’s been trying to _avoid_ thinking about those lips near his face in fear of his brain short-circuiting. But now that class is over and he has his mind to himself, the idea of those lips coming near his is thrilling, makes something spark in his gut. He wonders what they taste like, feel like, if they would be soft to the touch or have a hint of roughness to them against his smooth cheek. Would Diego be a good kisser? Would Five even know if he wasn’t? It’s not like he has any experience to base it on…

Just then, Five’s phone buzzes in his pocket, making his heart stutter. He quickly pulls it out and see’s Diego’s name on the screen. He bites his lower lip hard to keep from smiling.

From: Diego

what did the hippocampus say when it retired?

10:37 AM

Five holds back a groan, torn between wanting to see the answer and just shoving it back into his pocket. 

From: Diego

thanks for the memories!!!!

*smiley face*

10:37 AM

Five smirks at the screen and goes to reply but the device is suddenly plucked from his hands. 

“Hey!” he protests, scowling at Klaus. “Give that back, asshole!” He jumps to his feet and tries to wrestle it from his grasp, but Five is much shorter than Klaus and the bastard holds it far above his head. 

“I just want to see who this _mystery_ person is, Fivey,” Klaus grins, jumping onto his bed and holding the phone up to his face. “I figured it must be the person making you hide your smiles.” 

Five jumps onto Klaus’s bed and wraps his arms around the taller man’s legs, trying to get his knees to buckle. He’s eventually successful, sending Kaus toppling onto the mattress. 

“Gimme that,” Five growls, crawling up Klaus’s body and sitting on his hips. He makes grabby hands at the phone, fingertips grazing the cool plastic, but he’s unseated when Klaus gives a wild thrust of his hips that sends him smacking against the wall.

“Ouch, damn it,” he grumbles, holding the back of his head. He glares at Klaus, watching his eyes widen in surprise before meeting Fives.

“Oh, well what is _this_?” Klaus asks excitedly, sitting up. “Diego, huh? _The_ Diego? The same Diego that wants to bone you?”

“He doesn’t want to bone me,” Five hisses, shoving hard at Klaus’s side.

“Oh, sweetheart, I beg to differ! Diego is sending Five _jokes,_ Davey. That’s so sweet!”

Dave hums thoughtfully. “Does this happen often?”

“Maybe,” Five replies defensively. His back then slumps against the wall and he shrugs. “Yeah, sort of. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Klaus gives a low whistle, gently placing the phone back into Five’s lap. “Pal, you better visit a doctor because you have a serious case of denial.”

Five glares at Klaus as he grabs his phone, immediately texting a reply.

To: Diego

I’m appalled by your sense of humor.

10:40 AM

From: Diego

im hilarious and you know it

10:40 AM

Five gives a tiny wiggle where he’s sitting, picturing the idiotic grin that’s most likely etched across Diego’s face. “Ok,” Five mutters, peeking at Klaus through the corner of his eye. “Maybe I’m a… a _little_ bit in denial.” 

“Awww, Five,” Klaus coos, sidling up next to him and sliding an arm around his waist. “I’m really proud of you for admitting that. But I don’t think you need to worry, baby. From what you described and from what I just _saw,_ I’d say there’s a ninety-nine percent chance that he likes you back.”

Five frowns down at his lap, hating how child-like he sounds when he asks, “You really think so?” 

“What’s not to like?” Klaus exclaims, throwing his arms up in the air and startling Dave in the process. “You’re smart as hell _and_ hot! You’re the full package, Fivey.” Klaus pauses for a moment before sending Five an innocent grin. “And if it all goes to shit, you can always be in a threesome with me and Dave here--”

“Jesus, Klaus,” Dave groans, rubbing his eyes with his palms. 

“What?! Don’t even sit there and tell me that my best friend isn’t hot.”

Dave sighs and looks at Five. “You’re gorgeous, Five. Unfortunately, I’m a little possessive--”

“This is all way more than I needed to hear,” Five huffs as he gets up from the bed, cheeks involuntarily heating at Dave’s comment. He smiles to himself as he listens to the two boyfriends bicker, deciding to engage in his texts with Diego instead. The two end up texting off and on all day, exchanging witty remarks and somewhat playful banter. It’s _nice,_ to say the least, and as Five’s tucked beneath his blankets at the end of the day, reading and re-reading Diego’s goodnight message, he wonders if this is what being a normal human is like. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for actually reading this hot mess! I already have 2 more chapters completed and it's almost at 30,000 words (oops) and somehow it literally has no plot other me wanting these two to slowly love each other. Again, oops. Maybe plot will sneak in at some point or maybe not. Only time will tell ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> That being said, I don't really have a set update schedule for this thing, only because of the fact that I'm both doing a full-time internship AND going to school full time so I don't have many chances to sit down and actually write for this work. Soooo updates might take a bit longer after the other two chapters are up. 
> 
> Anyway! Thanks again for reading! I feel like there are very few shippers for this pairing and I'm surprised I even got 1 comment on this fic, let alone 6. You guys are awesome!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five goes to a party.  
> REGRET.

On Friday morning, the professor gives an in-class assignment to do with a partner. It’s a crossword puzzle, much to Five’s annoyance, that they have to fill in with information they get from the website written across the board. Five much rather prefers papers to childish things like puzzles and games, but he’s also a little smug that he gets to work with Diego. 

His heart has calmed down a bit since Monday, the thundering of it slowing to lighter thumps. He’s less nervous in Diego’s presence after Klaus’s reassurance, but he can’t help but feel a bit dizzy and lightheaded every time he gets the slightest whiff of Diego’s cologne or hears that deep, throaty chuckle of his. And the fact that the older boy has brought him coffee _every day_ this week makes butterflies swirl endlessly in his belly. Diego overloads his senses, but in the best way possible. 

Currently, their heads are close together as they look at the screen of Five’s laptop, Diego muttering something about id's and ego's, his breath smelling of mint from the gum he’s chewing. Five briefly wonders if his mouth tastes like it too before he swallows hard and concentrates on doodling in the margin of his paper. 

They finish the crossword quickly and sit back in their seats. Five is a little disappointed when Diego leans back, missing the warmth and the smell of him up close. His disappointment is short-lived when Diego drapes his arm along the back of Five’s seat again. 

“So,” Diego says. “You going to the fall party tomorrow night?” 

Five snorts into his coffee, taking a blissful drink before he replies. “Do I seem like the party-going type to you?” 

Diego grins and shrugs. “Dunno. You’ve surprised me a _lot,_ doll. I wouldn’t doubt it if you were out there shakin’ it every weekend at some club.”

“Are you implying that I’m a stripper?” 

“Nothing wrong with that.” Diego wiggles his eyebrows. “I bet you’d look cute in those tiny, sequined shorts. Now _there’s_ a thought.”

Five sputters and sends him a small glare. How does Diego manage to get under his skin so easily?

“Well you can stop _thinking_ about it,” Five hisses, making Diego’s smile get even bigger. “I don’t _own_ little sequined shorts and I never _will._ And I certainly wouldn't be _cute_ in them.”

Diego gives a low hum and a lazy smile, biting his bottom lip before whispering, “Prove it.” 

The words must break Five’s brain because he just _stares_ at Diego with unblinking eyes, the sudden knowledge that Diego _wants_ to see him in skimpy little underwear is too much for his brain to handle. He’s afraid it will explode and start leaking from his ears and won’t _that_ just be a fun story to tell mom and dad? 

Diego then leans back in his seat like the exchange never happened at all, like Five isn’t having a full-blown mental crisis over the words. 

“As I was saying,” the Latino continues. “You should come to the fall party tomorrow. It’s on the corner of Jackson and Fifth street. You could have a drink, make some friends, have some _fun_.”

“I don’t like parties,” Five says stiffly, finally finding his voice. Parties remind him of the old days, when his father was still alive. Reginald would host grand balls for charity events and job affairs and any other reason really, expecting Five to be present at all times and be on his best behavior. His best behavior meant sitting silently for hours on end while the adults droned on and on about boring shit that none of them really gave a fuck about. He was supposed to play the part of the sweet, loyal son to make Reginald look good, and if he stepped out of line even _once_ , well, it wasn’t pretty.

So, no party has ever been a _fun_ party to Five. 

Diego must sense the shift in Five’s mood because he gently lays a hand on Five’s wrist, the contact feeling like an electric current beneath Five’s cold skin. He then smiles and speaks with a calm voice, as if trying not to spook a frightened animal. “Hey, I’m just teasing you, all right? If you don’t like parties, then fuck ‘em!” 

The words tease a small smile out of Five. “Yeah, fuck ‘em.”

“But if you’re bored and change your mind, your good pal Diego will be there to take your mind off the world for a while.”

Five tries not to think about the double meaning behind those words and how they make something swoop low in his belly. Instead, he gives a hesitant smile and says, “We’ll see.” 

~~~

Despite how hard Five tries to ignore them, he can feel Klaus and Dave’s gaze on his back. He gives a small huff of irritation and abruptly stops walking, causing Klaus to crash right into him with a startled ‘oomph!’

“If you look at me any harder, Klaus, you’re going to burn a hole in my back,” Five says through clenched teeth. 

Klaus at least has the decency to look embarrassed at being called out. “Well, it’s just… are you _sure_ you want to go to this party, Five? We can go back to the dorm and watch a movie instead, play a game, _something_ besides getting hammered with a bunch of meathead jocks.”

Five rolls his eyes but takes a moment to pull in a calming breath, letting it out slowly if not a bit shaky. “You two were going anyway, Klaus. I just thought I’d try my hand at socializing for once.”

“But you _hate_ socializing!” 

“Jesus,” Dave mutters, twining his fingers with his boyfriends before looking at Five. “I think what he _means_ to say is that he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable all night around people that you don’t know.” 

“I _know_ people,” Five mutters, lowering his eyes to the ground and toeing at a rock. 

“Besides us?” Klaus asks. “I mean, _obviously_ you can hang with us all night, Fivey, but I have a feeling you might not like some of the--” Klaus abruptly cuts himself off, eyes lighting up with a sharp glint before he lets out a breathless laugh. “My god, your _friend_ is going to be there, isn’t he?”

It’s nearly dark outside, but Five’s face is burning so brightly that he thinks it must be visible from space. “Maybe,” he says, still avoiding Klaus’s gaze. “He… might have asked if I would be there.”

Klaus coos, loud and irritating, wrapping Five in a big hug. Five scowls as his face is smooshed into Klaus’s chest and tries to shove him off. It’s useless for the most part. Klaus, though scrawny, is an expert clinger. Eventually Klaus pulls back and goes about ruffling Five’s hair with his fingertips. 

“Hey!” Five protests, going to grab his best friend’s wrists, but Klaus quickly slaps his hands away.

“Let me do my job,” Klaus murmurs. “I’m fixing your hair. It needs to say ‘I’m a virgin, but I’ll still let you fuck me.’” 

“ _Alll_ right,” Dave interrupts, managing to wrangle Klaus away from Five’s hair. “You look fine the way you are, Five. Your Diego will like you just as much as he always does _without_ the ‘fuck me’ hair.”

Klaus pouts.

Five gets butterflies.

_My Diego,_ Five thinks and tries to bite back a smile. He likes the sound of that. 

“I knew something was off when you took for- _ever_ deciding what to wear tonight.” Klaus ogles him shamelessly and Five immediately feels self-conscious. He’s wearing a soft, gray sweater paired with black skinny jeans. His olive-green winter coat swallows him whole and looks a bit out of place with his clothing choices, but he isn’t about to freeze his ass off just to see Diego’s ~~handsome~~ dumb face for the night. “Oh, don’t look so constipated,” Klaus adds, waving his hand in the air. “You look _good,_ Five. Have some confidence!” 

“Easier said than done,” Five mutters to himself as they continue walking. 

“Oh my god! I just realized what this means!” Klaus crows, sending Five a huge grin. “I _finally_ get to meet the man that has you all bashful! This is gonna be great!”

Five groans softly. “This is gonna suck.”

~~~

As they step through the front door into a warm entryway, Five’s eyes widen in astonishment. The house is a mini-mansion, full of old furniture and expensive paintings. The oak flooring looks shiny and pristine upon first glance, but there are tiny nicks in it here and there, roughed up from years of hard shoes and heavy furniture. There’s a good number of people in the house, some gathering in groups to laugh with one another as others fly solo by the stereo, dancing with themselves to whatever punk band is coming out of the speakers. Fortunately, the music is at a tolerable level, unlike the movies Five has watched where the music seems to shake the entire house off its foundations. 

Food is being passed between greedy hands, drinks are being spilled onto the immaculate floor by tipsy partygoers, and there are random couples making out in various places throughout the room. The house is full of obnoxious laughter, food crumbs, and the slight smell of body odor.

Reginald would despise it.

Five secretly loves it.

A couple of guys yell a greeting to Dave from the huge kitchen to their right. Dave waves back at them, giving Klaus a kiss on the cheek before asking, “You two want a drink?”

Klaus nods eagerly, clapping his hands together like a child. Five shakes his head, not wanting to drink any alcohol after his first and only experience with it. 

“They do have water bottles,” Dave adds quietly, ever the gentleman. 

“I… yeah, ok,” Five agrees. He wonders how badly he’ll be judged for drinking plain water at a college party. Then again, as he looks around and sees everyone absorbed in their own little world, he has a feeling nobody will notice. 

Him and Klaus throw their jackets onto the closest couch, which is currently doubling as a jacket mountain, and wait for Dave to return.

“So,” Klaus says, resting his elbow nonchalantly on Five’s shoulder. “Where’s your man?”

“For the love of--he’s _not_ my man, Klaus. He just happens to be someone that I can tolerate more than ninety-nine percent of people on campus.” Five rubs his temples, already feeling a headache coming on. “I knew coming to this party was a terrible idea, damn it. I should just leave--”

“Aw, Fivey, no. I was kidding,” Klaus pouts, pinching Five’s cheeks and earning himself a glare. He then drops his voice to a softer tone so only Five can hear him. “I thought you _wanted_ to see Diego. Why don’t you text him and see where he is? This house is fucking huge.”

It’s actually not a bad idea. There’s no way in hell Five is going to go _looking_ for the other man. He’s not _desperate,_ for christ’s sake. Not only that but he doesn’t want to draw unwanted attention to himself wandering around on his own. It took enough of his own willpower to make his feet walk him here. He’s all out of courage for the night. 

Five dips his hand into his pocket, only to realize he left his phone sitting on his bed when he was changing pants earlier. “Damn it,” he sighs. Just his luck. “I… forgot it.”

“You wanna use mine?”

“Do you really think I have his number memorized, Klaus?”

He totally does, but he’s not going to admit that to Klaus. That’s just asking for future tease-worthy material. He’ll be keeping his pride, thank you very much. 

“Well,” Klaus sighs, linking his arm with Five’s. “I guess a little romp around the house wouldn’t hurt.”

Before they set off on their adventure, Dave returns with several drinks in his hands. He passes Five the water, hands Klaus something bright red in a glass, and takes a swig from his own beer bottle. 

“You’re the best, babe!” Klaus takes a delicate sip from his glass and hums at the flavor before turning to his boyfriend. “Me and Fivey were just going to take a little walk around the house. Care to join?” 

Dave’s phone takes that moment to go off, causing the other man to groan as he looks at the screen. He looks at the other two with an apologetic smile, saying, “It’s my mom. Do you guys mind waiting for a minute?”

Five shakes his head, slightly relieved. What if Diego isn’t even here? What if he decided not to come after all? Or worse. What if he’s here but hadn’t actually been serious about Five coming? What if he just ignores him? What if this is all one giant mistake and Five is just making a fool of himself?

And just like that, the cozy house feels suffocating, the music too loud and the people too many. Klaus is saying something to him but he’s too busy looking for the closest exit. He takes a shaky sip of his water, hoping the coolness will ground him a little. Instead, he startles violently at boisterous laughter coming from his left. 

“Jesus, Five. You ok?” Klaus asks, rubbing a hand over his back. But Five doesn't respond, _can’t_ respond. He’s too busy staring at the group of guys responsible for the loud laughter. They’re coming down the large staircase to his left, feet so loud on the wood that they sound like a herd of elephants. There’s seven of them in total, all teasing and grinning at some guy in the middle of them all. But most importantly, the guy falling in step next to _that_ guy is nobody other than Diego himself. 

As the Hispanic descends the stairs with the rest of them, he rolls his eyes at something one of them says and shrugs off a hand that is placed on his shoulder. His expression is one of agitation, making something twist in Five’s gut. He’s never seen any other expression on Diego’s face besides amusement and happiness. He doesn’t know what to make of the newest look he finds there, the clenched jaw, the hard eyes. 

As the group reaches the bottom of the steps, Diego lifts his gaze from the ground and freezes for a moment when he spots Five. Five watches as the look of annoyance vanishes in an instant, brown eyes turning warm, hard-set mouth curving up into a pleasant smile. 

“Five!” he calls, breaking away from the group, earning him some curious looks. 

“Diego,” Five murmurs, quiet enough so Diego doesn’t hear, but loud enough to cause Klaus to briefly look up from his own phone in curiosity. He’s clearly entranced by whatever is on his phone, giving Diego no more than a once over before his eyes fall back down to his device. Then, to Five’s amusement, Klaus freezes, eyes going wide as he does a double-take. 

“ _That’s_ Diego?” Klaus whisper-hisses in his ear.

Five nods, biting his cheek to keep from laughing.

Klaus looks back toward Diego, raking his eyes up and down his form shamelessly before he murmurs, “Oh _daddy_.” 

Five elbow him sharply in the side, cheeks heating up as Diego stops in front of them, the familiar scent of his cologne making Five’s knees go a bit weak. 

“I didn’t think you would actually come!” Diego grins, folding his arms over his chest. 

Five shrugs, ignoring Klaus’s dumbfounded expression. “I guess I’m trying new things.” He shifts his eyes to Klaus, who’s still staring at Diego with wide eyes, and decides it’s best to introduce them. “This is my best friend, Klaus. Klaus, this is Diego, my psychology partner.” 

Diego shakes hands with Klaus and gives Five a fake pout. “I thought we’d at _least_ moved into friend's territory by now, Five. And here I learn I’m nothing more than a class partner to you.”

There’s something about the statement that makes Five give a small laugh. “I suppose you’re correct.”

Klaus snorts next to him, flashing Diego a grin as he gives Five’s shoulder a tight squeeze. “Well, it was _lovely_ to meet you, Diego. If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go talk my boyfriend into dancing with me.”

Five wants to shake his head no, wants to grab Klaus’s arm and make him stay by his side. Now that he’s found Diego, he feels unsure of what to say or do. Talking is Klaus’s thing, not Five’s. Klaus just winks at him and wiggles his eyebrows before turning to go and find Dave. There goes Five’s last lifeline. 

Five looks back at Diego, who is already staring at him. They hold each other’s gaze for a long moment, Five’s cheeks heating up in discomfort. He opens his mouth to say something, _anything_ , but like always, Diego beats him to it. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you without the slacks and fancy blazers.” The teasing smile on his face lets Five know that it’s not an attack on his appearance.

Five shrugs. “They’re dirty.”

Diego gives a low hum and steps closer. He then runs a fingertip down the side of Five’s arm, plucking softly at the fabric of his sweater. Five nearly bites his tongue off at the touch. 

“Maybe they should be dirty more often,” Diego suggests, voice low and eyes intense as they lock with Five’s. “You look good, Five.” 

_He_ looks good? _Diego_ looks good. No, scratch that. Diego looks downright _sexy._ Then again, when doesn’t he? His tight, black t-shirt strains across his chest, his biceps popping out the end of the sleeves, larger than life itself. He’s clearly no stranger to physical fitness. The dark jeans he’s wearing leave little to the imagination, hugging his legs and butt nicely. The black boots tie the look together, giving him a bad boy vibe that Five didn’t know he was into until now. 

Five must look like a child playing dress-up standing next to him. 

“You look… _better_.” Five wants the ground to swallow him whole. He takes a deep drink of his water, hoping the coolness will knock some sense back into him. 

Diego laughs lightly, brown eyes twinkling beneath the lighting. He bites his bottom lip and wiggles his eyebrows. “I look even better with _nothing_ on.”

Five immediately chokes on the water, the liquid dribbling down his chin and onto his sweater. 

“Oh, shit,” Diego says, alarmed. He quickly gives Five a few thumps on the back with a steady hand. “Sorry, I--sometimes I have no filter. I really need to start watching what I say.”

Five’s coughs eventually taper off, allowing him to catch his breath and wipe the back of his mouth with his sleeve. Five weakly waves a hand at him, letting Diego know it’s no big deal. He wants to say as much but the large hand rubbing circles on his back is short-circuiting his brain. 

“Is he ok?”

Both Five and Diego turn toward the new voice, only to see a concerned-looking man watching them.

“Ben,” Diego greets. “He’s fine. Just… water went down the wrong pipe.”

Ben raises an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. His eyes flicker to Five, who has finally managed to stop choking. Diego’s hand is still warm against the small of his back and Five wonders how hot it would feel pressed against his bare skin. Mind clouded with inappropriate thoughts, all Five can manage to do is nod weakly at Diego’s words. 

Ben still looks skeptical but he holds out a hand to Five nonetheless. “I’m Ben, Diego’s roommate.”

Five eyes his hand for a moment as if it will bite him, but he eventually finds the manners Reginald had drilled into him. He reaches out and shakes his hand, giving a small smile in return. “Five.”

Ben’s eyes widen a fraction before his smile deepens. “Oh, _Five._ Diego has told me so much about you. Like, a _lot_ \--”

“ _Aaaaand_ Ben’s leaving now,” Diego interrupts, eyes shooting daggers at Ben. He removes his hand from Five’s back to make a shooing gesture at the other man. Five just _stares,_ not sure what to say in response to that surprising information. 

Ben holds his hands up in surrender and blinks innocently. “What? It’s the truth.”

“Go read a damn book,” Diego huffs.

They both watch as Ben wiggles his fingers in goodbye, sending Five a wink before he turns around and walks over toward another group. 

“Sorry about that,” Diego says. Five is surprised to see a small blush forming on the apples of his cheeks. _Interesting._

Five looks at the ground to try and hide his smile. He feels giddy knowing that Diego talks about him to his friends. “It’s fine.” _More_ than fine, really. 

“No, it comes off as creepy. You don’t have to spare my feelings, you know.”

Five snorts. “As if I’d waste my time doing such a thing.”

Diego’s embarrassment seems to vanish as he grins at Five. “True. You were pretty snarky when we first met.”

Five rolls his eyes. “As I said, you were breaking the unspoken rule of lecture hall seating.”

“Well if it’s unspoken, how should I know it’s a rule?” Diego rests his hand on Five’s shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze, a smug smile appearing on his lips when Five fails to answer. “That’s what I thought. I got the best seat in the house, babe.” 

Five groans, cheeks heating up at the endearment. “You and your pet names.”

Diego winks. “Plenty more where that came from.” He then drapes his arm across Five’s shoulders, pulling him against his side and guiding him through the hallway. Five should be used to the contact by now seeing as Diego can’t seem to keep his arm to himself in class, but it’s somehow different. In class, they’re sitting in chairs that are squished together. Intentional or not, Diego doesn’t have much of a choice when it comes to draping his arm over anything. But here, at a party, walking down the spacious hallway, there is more than enough room for the two of them to walk side by side without touching. The fact that Diego _still_ wants to touch Five, despite all the space, is mind-blowing. 

“Was there anything in particular you wanted to do? Dance? Keg stand? Get black-out drunk and run around butt-naked?” 

Five looks up at him, scandalized. “Is that what really happens at these things?”

Diego laughs, deep and throaty. “No, Five. I’m kidding. Well… I mean, I don’t think anyone would _stop_ you if you decided to give them all a peek--”

Five jabs Diego with his elbow in retaliation.

“-- _joking!_ But for real, these parties are usually pretty chill. None of that dramatic high-school bullshit you see on tv.” 

For some reason, the words bring Five relief. He hadn’t been expecting anything too salacious going on at these things, but he’s also only seen a handful of movies featuring college parties. He really doesn’t have much to go by.

“No, I… I just tagged along with Klaus. I thought I’d just go with the flow.”

“Nothing wrong with that! We could go find my friends and hang with them? They’re a chill group of people, I swear.”

Five shrugs, nervousness tugging at his gut. Growing up, Five rarely had the chance to interact with anyone outside the walls of Reginald’s mansion. He hadn’t gotten the chance to develop his social skills until later in life when he was more or less shoved headfirst into a public high school. 

Needless to say, meeting new people was and still _is_ nerve-wracking to Five. 

“ _Or_ we could sit somewhere private, just you and me, and talk shop.”

Five raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk on his lips. “You came to a party to talk about our psychology project?” 

“Well _no_ , but since you’re here--”

“I’d love to meet your friends,” Five interrupts, quietly, shyly. 

Five knows it’s the right thing to say when Diego’s face lights up with his smile.

“Great! I promise they don’t bite.” 

As Diego leads him down the hallway, Five casts a look over his shoulder. A part of him wants to let Klaus know what he’s doing so that he doesn’t worry--and _boy,_ does Klaus worry--but immediately decides against it once he spots him. Klaus is pressed chest to chest with Dave, arms wound around his neck as Dave twirls him around the floor in time with the music. The two are laughing, cheeks red and eyes sparkling, wrapped in their own bubble of love. Five knows that they’ll most likely be fucking in a closet somewhere within the next ten minutes. He’ll be their least concern until they resurface for air. 

Instead, he takes a deep breath and lets Diego gently guide him down a flight of stairs to the basement. It’s surprisingly well lit for a basement, the light reflecting off of a light oak floor. White sofas and a glass coffee table stand in the middle of the floor, all facing a huge tv mounted on the wall. In the corner of the room is a small bar, a couple dozen bottles of this and that displayed in the glass case behind it. It doesn’t look anything like the creepy, dilapidated basements Five reads about in books. It looks as if someone could rent the place out if they so wished, the furniture and decor cozy and inviting. Adding to the relaxed atmosphere is a small handful of people sitting on said furniture. Unlike the wild party-goers upstairs, these ones are quietly bantering with each other, sipping their alcohol slowly, as if they actually want to savor it and not just get hammered right off the bat. 

A couple of them perk up as Diego draws them near, sending him pleasant smiles and glancing curiously at Five. 

“Diego! Nice to see you’ve finally joined us,” one of them teases. 

“Yeah yeah. Guys, this is Five. He thought we were cool enough to hang out with so don’t blow it.” Diego then points to every person as he introduces them. “That’s Vanya, Sissy, you already know Ben, Jayme, Sloane, Marcus, Fei, and Alphonso.”

“As if he’ll remember all of that,” one of the girls, Fei _,_ points out. 

A few of them chuckle but give Five a small wave nonetheless.

Diego flips her off as he leads Five to a loveseat. Five gingerly sits on the cushions as Diego lets out a loud groan, startling Five. 

“This is the softest couch I’ve ever sat on,” Diego sighs, closing his eyes and tipping his head against the backrest. Five swallows hard as he looks at Diego’s throat, exposed and bared to the room. 

“You gonna cream your pants over a couch?” Ben asks.

“Just might,” Diego mumbles. 

“Well at least have a drink first,” one of the other girls says, winking at Five as she sets two bottles of alcohol between him and Diego.

“Oh,” Five starts, “I don’t really…” _drink,_ he wants to say, but something stops him. He doesn’t know if it’s some deep, childish longing inside of him that secretly wishes to fit in with his peers or if it’s sheer curiosity as to what the liquid tastes like. Both bottles are different colors, one with blood-red liquid while the other holds a cotton-candy blue color inside. Whatever it is, it certainly isn’t the clear vodka that burned his insides all those years ago. 

Diego grabs the red bottle from the couch and holds it out to Five, a questioning look on his face. For not having known him that long, Five is surprised as to how easily he can read Diego’s features, the look on his face saying, _You don’t have to if you don’t want to._

Five blinks at the bottle for a moment, carefully scans the room as if Reginald will suddenly pop out of the woodwork and backhand him. Finally, he reaches out a shaky hand and takes the bottle from Diego, twisting the cap off with ease. 

Diego grins at him and twists his own cap off, gently clinking his bottle to Five’s. “Cheers, baby,” he murmurs before bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a long swig. 

_Cheers,_ Five thinks, cautiously bringing the bottle to his nose. The alcohol in it makes his eyes water as he sniffs it, but it also smells like some sort of fruit, cherries maybe. He shrugs to himself as he brings the bottle to his lips and takes a small swallow.

_It’s just one drink. What could possibly go wrong?_

~~~

_S’this what being drunk s’like_? Five thinks to himself.

The room is currently spinning and Five doesn’t know if he’s spinning in circles himself or if the room has decided to become possessed. 

He’s violently jostled by Diego, who’s sitting to his right and-- _oh,_ he must still be sitting because he’s slumped against Diego’s side. The boom of laughter in the room makes him want to cover his sensitive ears, the noise too much for him. 

When did he start feeling like this? He was _just_ having a lovely time with Diego and his friends, the alcohol doing a damn good job at helping him relax and lighten up. He hadn’t said much himself, feeling too awkward around the new faces to really contribute anything of value to the conversation, but he _had_ been enjoying himself nonetheless as they all cracked jokes and told embarrassing stories about one another.

But now? His vision is swimming, his head is pounding, and his insides are churning in a non-pleasant way. 

He squeezes his eyes shut against the harsh lighting and turns his face into Diego's arm, hoping that both the darkness combined with Diego’s smell will make the sudden nausea go away. 

“Hey, you good?” Diego murmurs, the sound rumbling in his chest. 

Five wants to shake his head yes, doesn’t like feeling weak, but all he manages is a small groan. He nearly whines when Diego pulls away from him, cool fingers softly gripping his jaw and tilting his face upward. He squints at Diego, regretting it immediately as the light burns his eyes. 

Diego lets out a low whistle. “Boy, you are _drunk_.” It’s silent for a moment as Diego looks at the bottles next to Five’s feet. “You only drank three bottles! Why didn’t you tell me you were a lightweight? God, I think your friend is going to kill me.” 

_I’ve only drank once before,_ Five thinks. _How should I know I can’t handle my alcohol?_

“All right, up we go,” Diego mutters as he gets up and slowly hauls Five to his feet. 

For one terrible moment, the room spins so violently that Five thinks he’s going to puke right there in front of everyone. He clumsily grabs onto Diego’s bicep--holy cow, that thing is huge--and grips it like a lifeline, as if it will somehow make his nausea disappear. 

“You ok?” Diego asks, slowly leading Five toward the stairs. “Do you think you can walk? Or do you want me to carry you?”

Five lets out an unattractive snort as he leans heavily against Diego’s side. “How’re you not drunk?”

Diego lets out a huff of amusement. “Because unlike _someone,_ I can hold my alcohol.” The other man is quiet for a moment as they make their way up the stairs. And really, who gave the stairs permission to wiggle around like that? “We’re gonna get you some water, ok?”

The thought of putting more liquid into his body makes Five gag a little. He certainly doesn’t feel any better once they make it upstairs; the music is thumping much louder than before and the air reeks of sweat and bad perfume. There’s a couple arguing loudly in the corner, forcing other people to yell so they can be heard over the noise. It’s all too loud, too fast, too _much_.

It seems like he only _blinks_ and suddenly he finds himself sitting in a chair, Diego kneeling in front of him and pressing a bottle of water against his lips. Five turns his head away, like a toddler trying to avoid eating their vegetables.

“C’mon, doll. You need to hydrate. It’ll help to get you sober.” Diego is very persistent in getting him to drink it, following Five’s mouth as he turns his head every which way. Eventually, he sighs and grabs Five’s jaw in a firm grip. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s sturdy enough so that Five can’t move his head anymore. “Can you drink just a little bit? For me?”

Five wants to say no, wants to keep avoiding the bottle, but all the movement has made his nausea ten times worse and all he can do is concentrate on not puking on Diego’s lap. He groans softly before opening his mouth. He’s rewarded with a smile from Diego, who immediately tips the liquid into this mouth. It’s ice-cold and actually feels pretty nice against Five’s flushed skin. He takes greedy little pulls from the bottle, surprised to see just how thirsty he actually is. 

“There we go,” Diego says, thumb gently stroking Five’s cheek. Five can’t help but close his eyes and lean into the sensation, the _only_ good thing he’s feeling right now. “Better?” 

Five shrugs clumsily and his hand comes up to tug at the collar of his sweater. He’s warm, _too_ warm. What’s the fucking thermostat set to?

“Hot,” he mumbles, trying and failing to roll his sleeves up. His fingers don’t seem to want to work for some reason. 

“Ok, ok, just--” Diego helps Five to his feet and walks them toward the front door. “We’ll go sit outside for a few minutes. Get some fresh air, huh?”

Five doesn’t respond, too distracted by the unpleasant feeling of water sloshing in his gut. All he can do is hang onto Diego’s arm as he’s guided outside, the cool air hitting him like a tidal wave. It feels good against his warm skin, makes him feel a tiny bit better. He’s relieved to see that nobody else is standing outside, doesn’t want anyone else to see him in such an embarrassing state. 

“Do you want to sit down? There’s a bench along the path we can sit on.” 

All Five manages is a low “mmm” in response and mentally prepares himself to move just a bit further down the stone path. Their tiny trek is interrupted by the sound of the front door opening again, laughter and music spilling out for a second before slamming shut again. 

“Five?” someone shouts. Is it Klaus? It must be Klaus.

Diego stops and turns them around to face the newcomer, giving a small sigh.

“What happened?” Klaus demands, stopping in front of Five and tilting his face up. Five goes crossed-eyed trying to focus on his friend. Klaus then turns his focus to Diego. “What the hell did you do?”

“He had too much to drink,” Diego replies. “He said he wasn’t feeling great so I took him outside for some fresh air.”

Klaus scoffs. “Yeah, sure pal. Did you drug him?”

“ _Excuse_ me?”

“Klaus, c’mon,” another voice chimes in. It must be Dave, so calm and level-headed, but Five’s eyes can’t seem to open again so he’s not entirely sure. 

“No, Dave. When some pretty boy runs out the door with _my_ best friend--”

“We _literally_ just walked out here.”

“--I have the right to be a bit suspicious, don’t you think? How do I know he’s not a serial killer dragging Five off to murder him?!” 

Diego scoffs at that. “Really? Dude, you don’t even _know_ me--”

“Exactly! That’s my exact fucking point, muchacho!” 

_Stop,_ Five wants to say. _Stop yelling, stop fighting, just STOP._ His nausea has come back tenfold at this point. He knows if he opens his mouth it’ll be a bargain whether he pukes or not. Either way, he wants them to stop yelling at each other. His throbbing head can’t take it. 

Despite his better judgment, he opens his eyes and they land on Klaus. He’s momentarily surprised at just how angry he looks. Klaus is always such an easy-going guy, never afraid to chat up random strangers or offer a helping hand to someone in need. The angry look on his face makes Five momentarily uncomfortable, an image of Reginald flickering in his memory, mouth and eyes turned down into a permanent, angry scowl. 

“Stop’t,” Five slurs, forcing himself to turn in Diego’s arms so that he’s facing the Hispanic man. The look of anger on Diego’s face mirrors Klaus’s, making the churning in Five’s gut so much worse. 

Both of them ignore Five and continue to argue with one another.

“Well if you were _so_ concerned about his welfare, why the fuck would you let him go off with a supposed stranger? Some great _friend_ you are,” Diego hisses. 

“What, am I supposed to keep him on a leash? He doesn’t need anybody else playing dictator with his life!”

“Ok, just, calm _down,_ both of you--” 

Five grips the front of Diego’s shirt at the same moment his stomach decides to rebel. Sweat breaks out across his already warm skin and his stomach rolls violently, mouth filling with saliva moments before the contents of his stomach travel upward and empties all over the front of Diego’s shirt. 

The arguing around him stops immediately, the air going deathly silent. 

_Apologies,_ Five wants to say, but he can only manage to gag when he opens his mouth again. 

“Ok, let’s-- _here._ ” Diego quickly maneuvers Five’s body so that he’s twisted away from Diego’s chest and leaning over some bushes. He gags again, expelling more liquid and half-digested food onto the foliage. 

“I’ll… go get you a towel,” Klaus says quietly from behind him, footsteps quick and light as he turns back to the house.

The puking eventually turns into dry-heaving when there’s nothing left in his stomach. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling exhausted. “S’much better,” he slurs, going limp against Diego.

“Ok, let’s try to avoid _both_ of us being covered in puke, huh?” Diego mutters, trying to help Five stand up. “I’m gonna need some cooperation here, doll. You need to use those legs of yours.”

“M’tired,” Five replies, closing his eyes. He _is._ He feels like he could sleep for a week straight. Apparently his legs think so too since they don’t want to participate in anymore walking for the night. 

Despite the coaxing from both Diego and Dave, Five gives in to his exhaustion and falls asleep in Diego’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kind words about this fic! It really does make my day knowing that you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. This fic has more or less turned into my baby and I'm loving every moment of writing that I do for it. I hope you have yourselves a wonderful week <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego feels guilty.  
> Five shares his past.  
> It's a rollercoaster of feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Past child abuse mentioned

Five groans as he wakes up, opens his eyes, and immediately regrets it. The sunlight pouring in through the window feels like the equivalent of taking a hammer to his already pounding head. He squeezes his eyes shut again and covers them with his hand, not wanting any light to penetrate his eyelids.

“Fucking _ow,_ ” he groans. 

Someone snorts beside his bed. “ _I’ll_ say.”

Five startles at the voice, eyes opening to see Klaus sitting on the floor next to his bed. He squints at his friend. “Why’re you on the floor?”

“Because,” Klaus says, running a hand through his wild hair. His eyeliner is smudged, making him look like a raccoon. “ _Someone_ decided to get shitfaced last night and I wanted to make sure he didn’t choke to death on his own vomit.” 

Five blinks at him as he tries to remember the night before. Most of it’s hazy. He remembers sitting with Diego and his friends, he remembers deciding to try the pretty alcohol in the bottle, but it gets blurry after that. 

“Here,” Klaus says, handing him a bottle of water and some aspirin. “Trust me, you’ll want that.”

Five takes the pills immediately and downs half the bottle of water.

“Whoa, slow down there, pal. Don’t need a repeat performance of last night. Like, _seriously,_ watching someone puke makes me sweat. And not in the fun way.” 

Five clears his throat and slowly raises himself to a sitting position. He looks down and frowns, noticing he’s naked save for the boxers clinging to his skinny frame. 

“Last night is a bit… _hazy,_ ” Five admits. It’s embarrassing, really. He’s known for having a sharp mind. How can a bottle of alcohol incapacitate someone so easily? 

Klaus snorts again and grins lazily. “Well, for starters, we all learned that you’re a lightweight. I mean, really, who gets drunk off wine coolers?” Five isn't sure if Klaus wants an actual answer or not, so he just keeps his mouth shut and lets him continue. “Apparently you didn’t feel well and Diego took you outside to get some fresh air. I _miiiight_ have thought he was taking you off to murder you in an alley somewhere, so we exchanged a few harsh words--well, _yelled,_ really. Remind me to apologize to him later. Um, you puked all over his shirt and then you passed out. I think that about sums it up.”

Five groans loudly and hides his face in his hands. The memory is hazy, but he _does_ recall throwing up all over the other man. “That’s it,” he whispers. “I have to switch schools.”

Klaus just laughs. “I think you’ve been hanging out around me too much.” 

Five sighs and runs a hand through his greasy hair. Ick, he needs a shower. 

“He hates me. He’ll never want to see me again.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, bucko.”

“Why not? _I_ wouldn’t.”

“Because he carried you all the way back here, even _after_ you puked all over him.” Klaus sighs dreamily. “If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.” 

Five doesn’t know whether to swoon like a girl or be completely mortified. Has he thought of being carried in Diego's arms? Embarrassingly, yes. Just not passed out from alcohol and reeking of puke. He’ll never be able to face Diego again. 

“He’s _also_ the one who undressed you. Tucked you under the covers and everything. Quite adorable.”

“What?!” Five squawks, tugging his blanket up to cover his nipples. “You let him see me _naked_?”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic. You’re wearing boxers,” Klaus says, waving a hand dismissively. “Besides, I think he felt too guilty about the party to stand and drool over your naked perfection.” 

Five flops back against his pillow and considers suffocating himself with it. As if being carried back to his room wasn’t embarrassing enough. Now he has to live with the fact that the guy he totally does _not_ have a silly crush on has seen him almost completely naked. 

“Just think about the positives!” Klaus exclaims, hoisting himself to his feet. “At least you’re wearing nice, little black boxers and not those rainbow ones that I bought you for Christmas last year.” 

“I’ve never once worn those, Klaus,” Five grumbles. “They say ‘Santa’s Favorite Gay’ on the ass. Name _one_ scenario where I’d actually wear them.”

“Uh, any day?”

“No. Just no.”

“Weeeell, you could totally wear them this Christmas around Diego--”

“Yeah, I’m gonna stop you right there.”

Klaus sighs as he walks over to his closet. “Someone is very unappreciative of gifts. I hope Santa gives you a lump of coal for Christmas this year.”

Five shakes his head and closes his eyes. His head is still pounding, but the Advil seems to have lessened some of the pain. He’s no longer thirsty either, but his mouth tastes like absolute garbage. He groans as he pushes himself up once more and plants his feet on the floor. He gets a bit lightheaded as he stands but it fades after a few moments. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” Klaus asks, hands on his hips as he raises an eyebrow. It oddly reminds Five of his mother. 

“Need to brush my teeth.” He subtly sniffs at his armpit and grimaces. “A shower too.” 

“You need help? I can get in those hard-to-reach places,” Klaus winks.

“Hilarious,” Five deadpans. He quickly gathers his toiletries, a towel, and some clothes before he walks over to the door. “I’ll be back.” He carefully balances the items in one arm while he opens the door with his other, only to jerk backward, startled, as he comes face to face with nobody other than Diego standing there. 

He blinks down at Five in surprise, one hand clutching a coffee to his chest while the other is raised in a fist, as if he was about to knock on the door. 

“Oh, hi,” Diego breathes, giving him a half-smile that makes Five’s heart skitter in his chest. “I uh, I tried texting you this morning a few times--”

Klaus snorts from behind them. “A few? Try about _fifty._ Your phone was buzzing so much I thought you were hiding a vibrator somewhere.”

Five sighs and sends Diego an apologetic look. 

The corner of Diego’s mouth quirks up into a half-smirk. “Ok, about fifty. I just… I was a little worried about you after last night. I wanted to make sure you were ok. And when you didn’t answer I figured you were either still sleeping it off or you were ignoring me. Which is _totally_ fine by the way. Just say the word and I’ll fuck off, but… I just wanted to see if you were all right at least. You scared the shit out of me when you passed out.” 

Five just blinks at him, heart melting into a disgusting, gooey puddle. 

_Is this man actually real?_

“I just woke up. Haven’t checked my messages yet but I’m not _ignoring_ you.” Five lowers his gaze to the floor as the memory of puking on him resurfaces, cheeks getting hot with embarrassment. “If anything, you should be ignoring _me_. I ruined your shirt. I’m more than willing to replace it if you’d like.”

Diego laughs, causing Five to look back up at him with curiosity. 

“A shirt can be washed, Five. It’ll be just fine.”

“ _Right_ answer,” Klaus pipes up from behind them. 

“Jesus,” Five huffs, turning and glaring at his friend. Klaus just smiles from his bed, flicking innocently through a gossip magazine. Five steps forward so he’s standing in the hall with Diego and closes the door behind him. “Sorry about him.”

“Don’t apologize. I can tell he’s protective of you.”

“Him, my brother, ninety percent of the people I know. Trust me, you don’t know the half of it,” Five mutters. “I’m… _really_ sorry about last night. I’m usually more in control of myself.”

“I don’t know many people who can keep their composure while they’re drunk off their ass,” Diego teases. “You’re human. You deserve to let loose once in a while.”

Five shrugs, eyes falling on the coffee clutched in Diego’s hand. “Is that for me?” He internally cringes at how forward it sounds.

“Oh, yeah! I thought maybe some coffee would help. I mean, well, it usually helps _me_ with a hangover.”

Five bites back a smile. “Actually, many studies have shown that it doesn’t do much for hangovers at all. If anything, it can have the opposite effect and make them worse.” 

“Ok, boy genius,” Diego says. “Call it the placebo effect then; if you believe it’ll cure you, then it will.” He then gives a big, dramatic sigh. “But if you really don’t want the coffee, I _guess_ I’ll have to drink it myse--”

“I said nothing of the sort,” Five says haughtily, making Diego grin. 

“Why don’t I hang on to it until you’re done showering?”

Five immediately blushes, glancing down at his mostly naked form, and clutches his clothes to his chest. “Yeah, that’s… yeah.” He reaches behind him and cracks the door open, hoping Diego and Klaus won't kill each other while he showers. He’s also not sure how he feels about talking to Diego afterward with Klaus around to eavesdrop on their every word. Suddenly he gets an idea. “Hey, uh. Why don’t I buy you some lunch? You know, as a thank you for getting me back safely last night. It’s the least I could do.”

Diego gives him a soft smile. “I’d like that.” He then tilts his head and studies Five’s face. Five hopes he isn’t focusing on the dried drool that’s surely still crusted on the corner of his mouth. “Are you sure you’ll be able to stomach that? The smell of food, I mean?”

Five’s stomach gives an unpleasant roll at the thought of food, but he ignores it. “I’ll be fine. I just… probably won’t eat anything myself. Don’t need a repeat of last night.”

“Yeah,” Diego smirks as he pushes his way into Five’s room. “I’ll run out of shirts if you keep it up.” He then closes the door in Five’s face, leaving the younger man to blink at it dumbly. 

“Oh, you’ll pay for that one,” Five whispers, but smiles to himself nonetheless. He then turns around and walks to the showers as quickly as his throbbing head will allow him. Despite having one hell of a hangover, it’s the quickest shower he’s ever taken. 

~~~

Five steps out of Diego’s car and gently closes the door, afraid the thing will actually fall off if he does it any harder. Diego had driven them across town to Main Street, little shops and diners peppering the sides of the quaint road. Five honestly didn’t think Diego's car would get them to their destination in one piece. It was very old and clunky, an absolute junker that coughed and groaned with every turn it made, but Diego had sworn up and down that it was safer than a nun's virginity. Five had been, and still is, skeptical about that. 

Five follows Diego to one of the buildings, the sign above it reading “Griddy’s Donuts” in large, red lettering. Diego holds the door open for him, placing a hand on Five’s lower back as he ushers him inside to avoid the chilly, fall air. An older woman--Agnes, according to her nametag--gives them a big smile and leads them to a booth next to the window. She takes their drink orders--two waters for Diego and a coffee for Five--before scurrying off behind the kitchen door.

“You still ok to sit here?” Diego asks.

Five nods. The smell of greasy food surprisingly has no effect on him. He even eyes the large pile of hash browns sitting on an elderly gentleman's plate, mouth watering. 

“I could probably eat,” he says, swallowing down the saliva. 

“I recommend the pancakes. Nice and fluffy. And when you drown them in syrup? To _die_ for.” 

Five’s wrinkles his nose at the suggestion. “I’ve never been a huge fan of sweet things.” 

Diego shrugs his peacoat off and rests his arms along the back of the booth, grinning. “You never seem to have a problem with the coffee I give you.”

“That’s different,” Five defends. 

Diego chuckles. “How is that different? It’s got a sweeter flavor to it.”

“Trust me, it just is.” 

“If you say so, doll.” 

“Here you are,” Agnes interrupts as she sets their drinks down. Five is grateful for the small distraction. “Now, what can I get you young men?”

Diego rattles off something that sounds chock-full of protein while Five orders a simple serving of eggs and hashbrowns. He _does_ actually feel hungry but he also doesn't want to push his luck. 

“You thirsty?” Five asks, eyeing the two glasses of water as he takes a sip of his own coffee. 

“Not particularly,” Diego responds, sliding one of the glasses over to Five. “But I want _you_ to drink this.”

“What are you, my mother?”

Diego ignores the question. “It’s important to rehydrate after a drinking binge.”

“It wasn’t a--”

“Five, just drink the damn water, please.” 

Five sighs through his nose but brings the glass to his lips anyway, swallowing half the glass before setting it back down. “Since you said _please_.” 

Diego nods in approval and seems to relax against his seat. His face suddenly takes on a serious look, biting the corner of his bottom lip as his eyes search Five’s face. 

Five tries not to squirm under the look, feeling oddly vulnerable. “What? Do I have something in my teeth?”

“Sorry,” Diego says. “I mean, sorry for last night. In class on Friday, you told me that you don’t like parties. I feel… I feel like last night is my fault. If I hadn’t goaded you into going--”

“Nobody can _make_ me do anything, Diego.”

The side of Diego’s mouth quirks up into a smile. “Oh, I believe it. But… I still feel like last night is on me. If I hadn’t teased you so much in class, maybe you wouldn’t have felt like you needed to prove me wrong.”

Five bristles at that. “I don’t need to prove _anyone_ wrong. I went because I _wanted_ to.”

Diego puts his hands up in surrender. “Ok, maybe that came out wrong. What I _really_ meant is that I feel like it’s my fault you drank too much and got sick. I wanted you to have a good time with me and my friends and I sorta fucking blew that.” 

Five blinks at him, not knowing what to say in response. People get drunk at parties all the time. It really isn’t that big of a deal. Sure, it’s embarrassing to think about, but Five will get over it. So why does _Diego_ feel so guilty? 

_He thinks he somehow_ made _you go,_ the rational part of his brain thinks. _He thinks the reason you went is because you wanted to prove him wrong. Why don’t you tell him the_ real _reason you went?_

Five stares into his coffee for a moment, as if it will give him some kind of advice for the situation. When it fails to speak up, Five sighs and sits back, rubs his eyes with his palms. His gaze flickers up to Diego’s face, wondering if he can trust Diego with such delicate information. If he’s judged Diego completely wrong, then this could blow up in his face, be held over his head at some point, even after all the therapy he’s gone through to try and get over all of it. 

_You know he’s not like that._

Five knows, but that doesn’t mean making himself vulnerable in front of the other man will be any easier. 

Suddenly, Five feels very _tired._ Not from a hangover or from physical exhaustion. He feels emotionally tired, like the years and years of trauma he previously endured are trying to weigh him down. It’s exhausting keeping a shield around himself at all times. But where does he even begin?

_Start at the beginning._

So he does. 

He straightens up a bit, noticing the concerned look in Diego’s eye, and says, “My name is Five Hargreeves.”

Diego blinks at him, raising an eyebrow, clearly confused about the sudden shift in conversation. “Okay? And I’m--”

“No, no,” Five interrupts, settling his hands on the table as he leans in closer, lowers his voice so just the two of them can hear. “I’m Five _Hargreeves._ Son of _Reginald_ Hargreeves.”

Diego’s eyes widen, sitting up straighter. “Reginald Hargreeves? As in, _the_ Reginald Hargreeves? Eccentric billionaire Reginald Har--”

“Yes, _that_ Reginald Hargreeves,” Five hisses. 

Diego is unphased, swallowing hard and blinking at him. “He was your dad?”

“He might have been my father, but no way in hell was he my _dad_.” Five thinks of his real dad, his adoptive dad, Eddie. Eddie is a kind and loving man, not afraid to pull Five into hugs or surprise him with new books or take him to museums on the weekends. He’s everything a dad _should_ be and more. Reginald was nothing like that. 

“He passed away a few years ago, didn’t he?” Diego asks.

“Yeah, was all over the news,” Five mumbles, tearing apart a napkin on the table, giving his fingers a stress outlet. He remembers seeing the words on tv--one of the first times he’d ever _watched_ tv, mind you. The letters were big and bold, scrolling weirdly across the screen: REGINALD HARGREEVES, BELOVED WORLD-RENOWNED BILLIONAIRE, DIES OF HEART ATTACK. The only thing Five remembers thinking was, _Beloved? Beloved to who?_

“I’m sorry, Five. That couldn’t have been easy.”

Five shrugs. “There’s no love lost.”

Something shifts in Diego’s eyes, a light going off in understanding. He swallows hard and clears his throat. “I’m getting the feeling he wasn’t as great of a man as he wanted the world to believe.”

“You’d be correct.” Five pauses for a moment, sorting through his jumbled thoughts. He hasn’t shared this with anyone besides his therapist and Luther. He isn’t sure how to tell it correctly. Then again, the entire story is one giant shitshow so maybe it doesn’t really matter. 

“You see, Reginald was married to a woman named Lucille, my birth mother. Dear old dad never liked children, but he _loved_ his wife. So, with a little planning, I was conceived. Unfortunately, she passed away giving birth to me. I think you can see how that would be a problem.”

Diego nods, murmuring a ‘thank you’ to Agnes as she sets their food down. 

Five takes a delicate bite of eggs before he continues. “He never let me forget that it was my fault that Lucille died--”

“Five, that’s bullshit. I hope you don’t _actually_ believe--”

“Not anymore,” Five says, giving a small huff of amusement at Diego’s outrage. “But he sure had a way of making me think it back then. You see, I was never allowed out of the house, save once or twice a year for publicity events he wanted to look good for. Everything I knew came from him and the countless books in our library. Hell, if he told me that I was half dinosaur, I’d have believed him. There was nobody else around to tell me otherwise. 

“Anyway, as I was growing up, he raised me to be the perfectly quiet, obedient kid. If I ever did something that displeased him, he would either lock me in a closet for hours on end or beat me with his cane.”

“ _Jesus_ Five,” Diego breathes, one of his hands coming to rest on top of Five’s. When Five doesn’t pull away, he gently rubs the cool skin with his thumb. The gentle sensation feels nice, making Five curl his toes in his shoes. 

“Like I said, he wanted an obedient child. The more I stayed in line, the less he had to interact with me. So I usually stayed in my room, working on equations he'd give me or reading physics books. I wasn’t allowed to do fun things, really. We had no tv, no computer, _certainly_ no video games. I had no friends to play with, didn’t have much of an imagination to create my own games. I was sort of just… _existing._ ”

“So you never had any friends growing up?” Diego asks, prompting Five to shake his head. “What about birthdays? Surely he invited people over for those?”

Five gives a humorless laugh. “I didn’t even know that people celebrated birthdays until I was adopted. Imagine my surprise when I walked downstairs on my fourteenth birthday to see a pile of presents and a cake sitting on the table.” Five chuckles a little at the memory, remembering how he had eyed the pile of presents and asked his parents what it was. Something about the question had made his mother, Jane, start crying. He hadn’t understood why at the time, but now he does. She’d been saddened at the fact that he’d never experienced a birthday before. 

Diego swallows hard, tracing a random pattern on the back of Five’s hand. “That’s… wow, that’s a _lot_.”’

Five shrugs. “I didn’t even know the difference.”

“So, you never told the police any of this? Never told them that he would hurt you?”

Five shakes his head. “As I said, I had very minimal contact with the outside world. I thought it was normal.”

Diego hesitates for a moment, conflicted about his next question. “Was that… _all_ he did to you?”

“If you’re asking if he touched me, no, he didn’t.” 

Diego is visibly relieved. 

Five bites his lip. “But… he _did_ have cameras set up in every room of the house, including the bathrooms and my room.”

Diego’s hand tightens around him, a vein in his neck jumping in anger. “What the _fuck--_ ”

“He, uh, ok, this is going to sound completely absurd. Just, he wasn’t all _there,_ ok?” Diego doesn’t respond, just keeps looking at Five with anger simmering in the brown pools of his eyes. Five lowers his voice once more, not wanting other people to overhear. “He thought that I had somehow developed superpowers, convinced himself that I could somehow time travel.”

“That’s insane.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me. But, because he believed this, he started doing all of these tests on me. He’d take blood samples, urine samples, do physical examinations, take x-rays of my hands. He thought the power was in my hands, for some reason. So, he’d make me sit there for hours on end, fists clenched, and make me concentrate on another area of the house to see if I could spacial jump there. It’s the reason he put up all the cameras. He thought I was warping to other areas of the house without telling him. He thought he’d be able to catch me if he could see every room, but despite the fact that he never caught it on camera, he’d still punish me for lying to him about it.”

“I… don’t even know what to say. That’s fucking _insane._ I’m sorry you had to go through that. I can’t imagine what that does to a person’s mind.”

“Well, I think I turned out ok in the end,” Five jokes weakly, flipping his hand over and giving Diego’s fingers a gentle squeeze. He’s suddenly glad that Diego chose to touch his hand. The contact is grounding, reminding him that he’s not back there anymore, that he’s not being slapped across the face, or locked in a closet for days on end with no food, or held in such a tight grip that his soft skin blossoms with ugly black and yellow bruises. He’s _here_ , in the present, in this shitty little diner that he sort of loves, touching the hand of this kind, handsome man in front of him. The same kind, handsome man that feels like the party incident is somehow his fault. 

Five continues, wanting Diego to understand. “Through all my years growing up, Reginald would throw these big, extravagant parties in our home. They were usually charity events, all the Hollywood big-wigs and corporate CEOs showing up to mingle with each other. This was usually the only time I ever spent around other living, breathing people. Of course, Reginald always made sure I was on my best behavior. He’d have me stand by his side for hours on end, wanting to give off the idea that he was the perfect family man. I was to be seen and not heard, only talking if someone had asked me a question. Well, one time one of his bigshot friends asked me if I wanted to taste his drink. Reginald had never let me drink before that so I didn’t know what to say, but everyone was watching me, waiting for a response, so I took it from him and took a small sip. It was the most vile thing I’d ever tasted.

“It must have made a funny picture because everyone laughed. A few of the guys thumped me on the back, commenting about what a _man_ I was. And… I really wasn’t a rebellious child. You tend to avoid rebellion when all it gets you is a cane to the back. But… even though the drink was horrid, there was a part of me that wanted to try _more,_ thinking that maybe Reginald would see me as a man if I kept drinking like one. So, for the first time in my life, I snuck over to the bar while Reginald was otherwise occupied and grabbed the first bottle I could find. I damn near drank the entire thing, gagging and choking on it the whole time. 

“To make a long story short, it didn’t end well. Reginald gave me a lecture on how it was inappropriate behavior and how I had made him look poorly in front of his friends. He then proceeded to beat me so badly that I broke a few ribs and had to go to the hospital. That was one of the first times I’d ever been allowed out of the house. So,” he swallows thickly, eyes flickering up to Diego’s unreadable gaze. “When you say that you feel like it’s your fault that I felt it necessary to go to the party in the first place, it wasn’t. It was really me trying to prove something to _myself,_ prove that Reginald doesn’t still have a tether to me all these years later. Parties just… they’ve reminded me of that incident for so long that I wanted to see if I could erase it with something better.”

“Well,” Diego finally speaks, voice low and scratchy. “Did it work?”

Five wrinkles his nose. “Not really. But at least you didn’t break my ribs.”

A look of surprise washes over Diego’s face before he bursts out in laughter. “Sorry, that’s really not funny.”

Five gives a small smile. “It’s a little funny. Last night may not have had the best ending, but I _did_ have fun meeting your friends and, and… just _being_ for a few hours.” Five gives a big exhale, his chest and stomach feeling lighter than they have in years, as if the weight of the entire world has been lifted from his shoulders. Telling Diego was definitely a good idea. Hopefully it will help Diego understand why Five is sometimes so prickly without meaning to be, or why he seems so prudish about certain things or activities. 

_He understands,_ that voice soothes. Five’s entire body relaxes at the realization. 

“Five,” Diego says hesitantly. “I promise I’m not treating you with kid gloves, but if there’s anything I ever do or say that makes you uncomfortable, I want you to tell me, ok? I don’t want to make you do anything that you don’t want to.”

“You mean you still want to associate yourself with me after the bomb I just dropped?” Five jokes weakly, feeling a little uncomfortable with the heaviness of the conversation.

“Yes,” Diego says without hesitation, expression serious. His eyes shift to where their hands are touching and Five’s gaze follows. Diego lightly gathers Five’s hand into both of his, creating a warm cave around it as he just holds it there, content. Diego then lifts his eyes back to Five’s and gives a soft smile, voice low and gravelly as he continues. “I like you, Five. If you couldn’t tell then I must be doing something wrong.”

Five blushes and looks at the food on his plate. “S’not like I have much to compare it to.” He then gives a bitter laugh. “I have an IQ of 170, and yet, I didn’t even know what attraction was until I went to high school.” He sighs then, meeting Diego’s warm, brown eyes. “Sometimes I feel eons behind everyone else. It’s embarrassing, really, not understanding references to popular things or not knowing how to properly interact with people my own age. Hell, I still get nervous walking off campus to the fucking _gas station_ not knowing if I’ll get lost or not. Travel back in time a few years and I wouldn’t have been able to tell you north from south.” 

“Hey, you had a hard life,” Diego soothes, thumb rubbing soft patterns onto Five’s skin. It calms him a little. “If we’re being honest, I’m not sure many others could have survived what you went through. Shit like that can break even the strongest of men. But look at you now! You have a nice family, you’re in a great college, and you have one hell of a best friend.”

Five can’t help but crack a smile at that. “Oh, Klaus is _special,_ all right.”

“You two never…? You know,” Diego trails off, wiggling his eyebrows up and down suggestively. 

Five physically recoils, pulling his hand away as he does so. “Suggesting that will make me vomit quicker than any alcohol will.” 

Diego laughs. “I’m just fucking with you. But really, from what I’ve heard, you seem to have a good group of people around you to be with you every step of the way. I’d like to be one of those people too, if you’ll let me.” 

Five swallows hard, feeling emotionally drained. He gives a wobbly smile and says softly, “I’d like that.” 

Diego gives a boyish grin before he picks up his fork again. “I guess this food isn’t gonna eat itself.”

The two of them dig back into their food, the atmosphere around them lighter, more playful. Diego inhales the rest of his food as Five slowly picks away at his. Eventually, he flags down Agnes and hands her his credit card, glaring at Diego when he tries to do the same. 

As they get up from the booth and shrug their coats back on, Diego asks, “You gotta get back to the dorm, or do you wanna get some fresh air? We could walk half a mile to the river overlook. It’s a nice view.”

All Five really wants to do is go back to his dorm and sleep the rest of the day, completely exhausted. But he also doesn’t want his time with Diego to end just yet. So, like a fool, he agrees, letting Diego guide him out of the diner. As they step outside into the chilly air, Five blinks in surprise. 

“It’s snowing,” he says dumbly, as if it’s not obvious. Tiny flakes are floating lazily down from the sky, one landing on the tip of his nose as he gazes upward. 

Diego gives a low whistle. “October first. Kinda early for the first snowfall, huh?” 

Five hums in agreement, murmuring, “It’s pretty.”

“Yeah,” Diego responds in a low voice. “It is.”

Five looks over at him, realizing Diego is gazing at him rather than the snow. He blushes and looks away, clearing his throat. Diego starts walking down the sidewalk, a smug look on his face as Five falls in step beside him. A shiver runs up Five’s spine as a gust of wind rolls through, his breath making small puffs in the air. He goes to reach for the mittens in his pocket, his fingers starting to go numb from the cold, but is surprised when he feels Diego slip his hand into Five’s, twining their fingers together. That hand is instantly warmer.

“Is hand-holding on the list of things you haven’t experienced yet?” he asks. 

Five huffs in amusement and looks away, trying not to smile. “I don’t have a _list_. I do things as I please.” 

“Whatever you say, doll,” Diego teases. Then, in a softer tone, he asks, “Is this ok?”

Five looks up at him through his lashes and gives a small smile. He gives Diego’s hand a light squeeze, receiving a firm squeeze in return. “It’s more than ok,” he murmurs. 

Diego flashes him a smile in response. They continue walking down the sidewalk, a comfortable silence falling over them. Five can’t help but peek at their clasped hands. The contrast of their skin tones looks nice, as does the size difference. Diego’s hand practically dwarfs Five’s smaller one, making Five wonder where _else_ Diego is big. 

He pushes the thoughts from his mind, feeling strange thinking such a thing about Diego while standing right next to him, touching him, _smelling_ him. Instead, he focuses on the warmth Diego’s hand gives off, the hard line of his body pressed against Five’s, the gentle snowfall around them. He lets himself relax and enjoy the small moment, already knowing he’ll want to replay the memory over and over again later as he lays in his bed. 

During their hour-long excursion, Diego doesn’t let go of his hand once. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego meets A.J. and has a bit of fun.  
> An impromptu date happens.

“ _Heeeell_ yeah! High five, Five!” Diego raises his hand and snorts to himself, waggling his eyebrows as he adds, “Get it? High _five_ , Five? That’s--”

“My name, yes, I get it. Hilarious.” Five rolls his eyes but can’t help but lightly tap his palm against Diegos. 

“Why do I get the feeling that you don’t appreciate my sense of humor?” Diego asks with a pout. He threads his fingers through Five’s before he can pull his hand away, resting their hands on the table between them. For once, Five’s cheeks only mildly heat up at the action. He’s had an entire week to adapt to the other man’s touches and they no longer catch him completely off guard. He’s come to learn that Diego is a _very_ tactile person, pressing up against his side as they sit in class or sliding an arm around his waist as they walk through the quad. He’s even taken to sitting on the other side of Five in class just so that he can hold his hand, allowing Five to continue writing notes with his dominant hand. The action had secretly warmed Five’s heart, but he also didn’t want Diego to miss out on important notes because of him. When he’d voiced his concern, Diego had just wiggled his eyebrows and replied in a low voice, “I’m ambidextrous, baby.”

Of all the ridiculous things to turn Five on, he hadn’t been expecting _that_ to be one of them.

Shaking himself from the tender thoughts, Five closes his laptop with his free hand and looks at Diego, raising an eyebrow. “I’d appreciate it more if you actually said something funny.”

Diego lets out a fake groan and clutches at his heart. “Your words, they wound.” 

Five can’t help but smile at that, giving Diego’s fingers a gentle squeeze. “I’m just glad we’re finished with the project.”

“Two weeks early, at that! Must be all the smart particles floating through this library."

“Mmm.” Five extricates his fingers from Diego’s to grasp his coffee thermos with both hands. He takes a small sip from it and just holds it, lets the warmth of the cup soak into his skin. “What _ever_ will we do with all that free time?”

_Way to sound desperate,_ he thinks to himself, eyes widening as he realizes how suggestive the sentence sounds. 

“I didn’t mean--”

“Relax, Five,” Diego chuckles. “I know.”

Five fights the urge to slump with relief. Of course Diego understands. He’s scarily in-tune with Five’s thoughts and feelings. Then again, he _is_ a psychology major. Perhaps the intuitiveness just comes with the territory. 

Diego eventually sighs and closes his laptop, checking the watch on his wrist before he stands up. “You wanna go grab some dinner? It’s about that time.” 

Five shrugs. “I could eat.” 

“Great!” Diego grins, stuffing his laptop and notebook into his bag. “I gotta hit the ladies' room real quick.” He trails his fingers over Five’s shoulder as he passes by, sending shivers down his spine as Diego disappears around the corner with a smug look on his face. 

The bastard. 

Five takes the time to carefully pack his things away into their rightful place, downing the rest of his coffee before he goes to shove the thermos into the side pouch of his backpack. He silently curses as he drops it onto the floor, watching with agitation as it rolls beneath the table. He sighs to himself as he pushes his chair back, slithering down to crouch on hands and knees to retrieve the object. His tongue pokes out as he reaches for it, feeling triumphant as his fingers finally wrap around it. At the same time, he sees a pair of legs stop next to the table out of the corner of his eye. 

“That was quick,” he teases, backing out of the tight space. “Did you piss yourself on accident?” Finally free, he stands up, smirk on his lips as he turns to face Diego. The smirk drops and his stomach plummets once he realizes it’s most definitely not Diego. 

It’s A.J. 

“How charming,” the other man purrs, an oily grin on his lips. 

Five clutches tightly to the thermos in his hand, as if it’s some kind of lifeline. He shoots A.J. a glare and turns to his bag sitting on the table, roughly shoving the object into its holder. “What do you want, Carmichael?”

A.J. tuts at him, like he’s a child in need of a scolding. “I think we can drop the pleasantries, my pet. A.J. works just fine. Unless you’d like to call me _Sir._ ” 

Five’s gut rolls at the thought, tiny splotches of memories seeping into his mind, of Reginald demanding that Five call him Sir instead of dad, of being hit with a cane if he ever slipped up. All of those bruises that had mottled his delicate skin.

“Fuck off,” he grits through his teeth, trying to distract himself by tying his scarf neatly around his neck and focusing on closing his jacket one button at a time.

Undeterred, A.J. continues. “You’ve been avoiding me in class, Five.”

It’s true. Five _has_ been avoiding him in class since the first incident, slipping out the door the moment class is over and booking it down the halls. He’s even taken to doing in-class work with Lila, the girl who sits next to him, in order to avoid working with A.J. Not that working with a partner has ever deterred A.J. from waltzing up to him with that annoying, smug look on his face, but Lila herself keeps him away easily enough. She’s loud, sarcastic, _blunt,_ and A.J. just happens to be her favorite person to hurl quick-witted insults at. A.J. doesn’t find it amusing when she pokes fun at his intelligence, so he keeps his distance. Five, on the other hand, finds it _hilarious._

“Yup. What’s your point?” Five growls. 

A.J. tuts at him again, shaking his head as he steps closer. “That’s a tad childish, don’t you think? How are we supposed to get to know each other on a more _personal_ level if you’re constantly evading me? Or are you into the thrill of the chase? Hm, is that what this is, Five? I might play your little game if you ask me nicely.” 

Five scoffs. “I don’t want to play any games with you. You’re fucking delusional.”

Something flashes behind A.J.’s eyes, dark and wild. His lip curls up at the corner as he reaches a hand out to grab Five’s arm. Five is seconds away from grabbing him by the wrist and twisting outward, just like Luther had shown him a few years ago as a self-defense move, but Diego takes that moment to reappear.

Diego’s eyes flicker between the two of them, curiosity and a hint of something darker lurking in the brown pools. He quickly recovers from whatever he’s thinking and smiles at Five, rounding the table to shrug his peacoat on and slip his bag over his shoulder. 

“Who’s your friend, Five?” he asks. 

Five scoffs again. “As if I’d be friends with someone like him.” 

Diego’s eyebrows raise a tad at the blunt rejection, eyes lifting to A.J.’s face once again. Five isn’t sure what he’s looking for as he stares at the other man. 

A.J. gives a humorless chuckle, eyes raking up and down Diego’s larger form, sizing him up. “Oh, our little Fivey has such a _strange_ sense of humor, doesn’t he?” 

Diego hums in response and rounds the table once more, planting himself firmly between Five and A.J. In an uncharacteristic move, Five grabs for Diego’s hand, holding onto it tightly. He lets the scent of Diego’s cologne calm his nerves. Diego gives a gentle squeeze back, even though his eyes are still on A.J. 

A.J.’s eyes narrow as they fall to their clasped hands, nostrils flaring in annoyance. He quickly catches himself and looks back at Diego, a tight smile on his face as he holds out a hand and introduces himself. “I’m A.J. Math major, head of the mathematics club.” 

Five rolls his eyes. Who introduces themselves like that?

Diego is quiet for a moment before he grins in return, all sharp teeth and piercing eyes. There’s a hardness in his gaze as he grips A.J’s hand, something dark and dangerous. A warning. 

“Diego. Self-defense instructor. I play with knives in my free time.”

A.J. looks at Diego like he’s nuts before letting out a fake laugh. He then cringes a little, trying to pull his hand back from Diego’s crushing grip. Diego eventually lets go of his hand, leaving A.J. to shake the blood flow back into the appendage. 

“That’s quite the grip you’ve got there,” he says stiffly.

“Yes, I’ve heard it’s good for giving handjobs.”

A.J.'s eyes practically bulge out of his head at the sentence. Five can’t help the snort that makes its way out of him. He turns and presses his face into Diego’s arm as he tries to muffle the laughter that threatens to follow it. 

“Anyway,” Diego continues, lightly jostling their intertwined hands. “We’ll be late for our date if we don’t leave soon, babe.”

Suddenly, Five is grateful that his face is hidden in Diego's coat because the look of shock that crosses his face has to be utterly ridiculous. He shifts his eyes over to A.J., the other man turning an unattractive shade of red, a pinched look on his face. 

“Right,” Five murmurs, managing to find his voice. 

Diego smiles down at him, removing his arm from Five’s grip in exchange for slipping it around his waist. He looks back at A.J. with a tight smile and says, “It was _lovely_ meeting you, Archie.”

“It’s A.J.,” he responds with a glare.

“Sure thing, Andy,” Diego says, leading them past the flustered man and toward the doors of the library. 

The cool air kisses Five’s skin as they make their way outside. The daylight is fading quickly, the clouds and the sunset painting the sky in pretty shades of pink and blue. Diego looks almost ethereal against the backdrop, all tan skin and dark features against the pastel sky. 

“Stare any longer and I might think you like me.”

Five quickly shifts his gaze away and hides a smile in his scarf. 

_I_ do _like you._

Instead of verbalizing the words, he clears his throat and says, “Thanks for that. You know, back there.”

Diego snorts. “Anytime, doll. I’m a sucker for a damsel in distress.”

Five immediately bristles at the comment and glares up at the smug man. “Damsel? I’m not a Disney princess that you can play knight in shining armor for! I didn’t _need_ your help getting rid of him.” 

“Easy there, tiger. I know you didn’t. I just like to see you get all fiery.” He then turns to Five and blatantly looks him up and down. Five blushes under the intense observation. “Though you _do_ have some similar characteristics to a Disney princess. Fair skin, pretty eyes, backbone of steel. You remind me of that chick from Tangled.”

“Too bad I don’t have a frying pan to hit you over the head with,” Five mutters.

Diego makes a tsking noise as he leads them toward the parking lot. “Is that any way to talk to your _date_?”

Five looks up at him and raises an eyebrow. “I… thought you were saying that to get under A.J.’s skin.”

“Oh, totally. I mean, did you _see_ his face? It looked like he was going to blow a fucking gasket.” He lets go of Five’s waist so that they can get into Diego’s car. Shutting the door loudly behind him, Diego starts up the engine and turns back to Five with a grin. “But if there’s one thing I hate more than smug dickheads, it’s being called a liar. So, I was thinking--”

“Uh oh.”

Diego flips him off. “Dinner and a movie?” 

“Oh,” Five says in surprise. “Like… at a movie theater?” 

“Yeah, babe. There’s a few I think you’d be interested in.” A few moments of silence go by before Diego awkwardly clears his throat. “I mean, only if you _want_ to. We can totally just grab some takeout and--”

“No, no,” Five interrupts, touching Diego’s arm gently. “I’d _love_ to go to the movies. Sorry, it’s just…” He bites his bottom lip and sighs, thoughts of Reginald creeping into his head once more. “I’d never been to a movie theater until I was adopted. The first time my dad took me, I think I spent more time being in awe over the size of the screen than I actually spent paying attention to the movie.”

Diego smiles gently. “Overwhelming, hm?”

“Very.”

“Well, if you’re going to feel overwhelmed, we don’t _have_ \--”

“Diego, I _want_ to go,” Five chuckles. “After the initial shock, I couldn’t get enough. It became a weekend ritual of sorts, the four of us buying the biggest tub of popcorn we could get and half a dozen boxes of candy.” _Good memories to replace the bad._

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there.”

“ _But,_ eventually Luther and I left for college, so our movie trips are reserved for when we go home on breaks. _If_ our parents aren’t busy with work, that is.”

“Mmm,” Diego hums thoughtfully. “So you haven’t been back since school started this year?”

Five shakes his head.

“Well, we’re just gonna have to change that then, aren’t we? Hell, if you like the movie theatre that much, we can go every damn _day_ if you want.” 

Five can’t help but give a small laugh. “I’m not _that_ desperate.”

Diego grins and shifts the car into reverse. “Well, the offer still stands. So, pizza?”

“Pizza,” he agrees.

Diego winks at him before backing the car out of its spot and pulling out onto the road. “It’s a date, then.”

~~~

Five isn’t one to use the word _cute_ to describe things, but it’s the only word that crosses his mind as he and Diego sit down in the parlor. Not only do they serve pizza, cooked in an authentic _pizza oven_ no less, but there’s also a small counter toward the back of the parlor that serves ice cream. The flavor names are scrawled across a blackboard in elegant cursive, a well-drawn image of an ice cream cone with a smiley face pulling the look together. 

The entire parlor is made of rust-colored brick walls, old paintings and drawings crowding their surface in a chaotic display. The chairs and tables scattered throughout the place are black and made of iron, glass jars of parmesan cheese and other unknown flakes sitting patiently in the middle of each table, waiting to be of use. The authentic Italian music floating down from the speakers adds to the ambiance of the room. There’s only a couple of other people in the parlor, busy chewing on their own slices of pizza. The employees behind the counter are teasing each other, one of the younger men snapping a towel against an older gentleman’s butt as he bends over. 

Five shoves his cheese pizza into his mouth to keep from laughing at the sight. 

“I never pegged you for a cheese-only kind of guy,” Diego murmurs as he scrolls through his phone. 

Five raises an eyebrow as he takes another bite. “Oh? I hadn’t realized you’d been fantasizing about my pizza preferences.”

“Just a mere observation,” he winks at Five, stuffing the last bit of crust into his mouth. He then holds eye contact with Five as he slowly licks the grease from his fingers. “I’m more of a sausage guy, myself.”

Five rolls his eyes at the flirtatious words, pleased with himself when he doesn’t end up blushing to his roots. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Only for you, babe.” Diego then gestures to his phone. “There’s a showing for Knives Out in about forty-five minutes. Everything else is almost a two-hour wait.”

“Is that the one about a murder mystery?” 

Diego nods. “Yup. Has Chris Evans in it.”

“Who?” Five asks, finishing his pizza. As he takes a sip of water to wash it down, he meets Diego’s stunned gaze over the top of his glass. He swallows quickly, asking, “What?” 

Diego places a hand over his heart dramatically. “ _Surely_ your parents made you binge-watch the Marvel movies, right? Captain America? Big, dreamy blonde dude?” 

Somehow _that_ makes Five blush. “Oh. Yes, I’ve seen The First Avenger. He’s rather… _nice_ looking.”

Diego snickers. “I guess that’s one word for it. Have you seen the rest of the Marvel movies?”

“A few here and there. I’ve been told I need to watch them in a certain order.”

“Hm, we’ll have to remedy that. Next date night’s at my house.” Diego then looks up at Five with an uncharacteristically self-conscious look on his face. “That is, if you _want_ to. It doesn’t _have_ to be a date. No pressure. We can totally just hang out as friends, because that’s what friends do--”

“You’re rambling,” Five says, an amused smile on his lips. He musters up the courage to lay his hand atop Diego’s, the skin warm beneath his fingers. He then leans in a bit further, whispering, “It’s a date.” And really, where did this newfound courage come from? What happened to the boy who got tongue-tied around Diego not but a few weeks ago?

A relieved smile breaks out on Diego’s face, flipping his hand over so their palms are touching. “Great, that’s… _great._ ” He then clears his throat before asking, “So, Knives Out, or would you rather wait a few hours for something better?” 

“Knives out is fine.” Five’s mind takes that moment to flash back to the library, to Diego and A.J.'s interaction, and he can’t help but ask the other man a burning question. “Do you _really_ play with knives in your free time?” 

“Yes,” Diego grins. “I started knife-throwing when I was younger. Honestly, I only got into it because I thought I’d look cool in front of my friends. But then it sort of evolved into a hobby that I actually enjoyed. I’ve gotten pretty good over the years. I can hit ninety-nine percent of the targets I aim for. I’ve even managed to learn how to curve my throws. Is it useful? Not really. Does it make me look like a badass? _Absolutely._ ”

Five smirks at that. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“Oh- _ho,_ look at you getting all cocky,” Diego teases. “I guess I’ll just have to prove my knife-throwing prowess to you someday.”

“Just as long as you don’t use _me_ as a target.”

“Never.” Diego slips his hand out from under Five’s, much to his disappointment. He then grabs their empty plates, cups, and dirty napkins and brings them over to the counter with used dishes, stacking them in a neat pile. When he joins Five back at the table, he nods his head in the direction of the ice cream counter. “Did you want some before we leave?”

Five wrinkles his nose. “No. I’m good.”

Diego lowers his voice, saying, “Don’t tell me you don’t like ice cream.” The expression on his face is so serious that Five has to bite back a laugh. 

“Honestly, Diego, who doesn’t like ice cream?”

Diego tilts his head to the side in thought before shrugging. “Lactose intolerance people?” 

Five snorts. “I’m sure they like it. They just can’t eat it.”

“Ok, fair.” His brown eyes then grow wide. “Wait, are _you_ lactose intolerant? Please don’t tell me you just agreed to come here to be polite.”

“No,” Five chuckles. “Klaus is though, and I’ve witnessed the aftermath of a dairy binge. Trust me, I wouldn’t have touched the pizza if my body faced those kinds of repercussions.” 

Diego pulls a face at that but then looks thoughtful. “You know what? If I was lactose intolerant, I’d _totally_ still eat dairy. I can’t imagine a life without pizza.” 

“Really?” Five asks, eyes flickering to the bulge of Diego’s biceps. “How often do you _actually_ indulge in junk food?”

Diego shrugs. “Every now and then. Sometimes it’s a nice treat, you know? But if you’d ask me to choose between a bowl of fresh veggies and a pizza, I’d take the veggies. Can’t keep a figure like this one by eating greasy food every day.” He then grins at Five as he leans his elbows on the table, subtly flexing his biceps. 

Five swallows thickly, tearing his eyes away from them. “No, I suppose not.” 

“Well, should we go? If we get there early enough, I can try to win you a stuffed animal out of the claw machine.” He waggles his eyebrows up and down in an attempt to look seductive. 

Five’s lips quirk up into a smirk. “I’d love to see you try.”

~~~

To say that Five is surprised when Diego plops a stuffed animal into his arms is an understatement. 

Having gotten to the theatre with twenty minutes to spare, Diego had hurriedly purchased tickets, a bucket of popcorn, and two large slushies before ushering them to the arcade. It was a small room, full of out-of-date game machines and tacky, neon-green carpeting, but it was blessedly empty. In retrospect, that was probably a good thing considering all of the swear words that had flown out of Diego’s mouth as he had tried to knab one of the animals inside the machine. The process had taken a lot of cursing, a handful of spiteful glares, and a few angry machine-shakes before Diego had _finally_ managed to snag something. 

And that brings them to the current moment, with both of them blinking down at the stuffed animal in Five’s arms. 

Diego clears his throat before speaking up. “Is it… _supposed_ to look like that?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure _what_ it’s supposed to be.” 

Whatever it is, it’s dark purple in color. It’s got six small, nubby legs and a horn on its head. Its mouth is a jagged line of black stitching, looking to be pulled down into a grimace. It has two, large googly eyes, almost too big for the surface of its face. Or, rather they _would_ be too big for its face had one of the eyes not chosen to pop out and dangle halfway down its body by a string. 

“Well, it’s got a horn. So, unicorn, maybe?” 

Five stares pointedly at him. “It’s got six legs, Diego.” 

Diego hums, eyes still roaming the stuffed animal as if it will somehow speak up and tell them. Then, determinedly, he says, “I can win you a different one.” He turns back to the machine, digging into his pocket for his wallet, but Five lays a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Diego, it’s fine. I… _like_ it.”

The older man raises an eyebrow. “Oh, _really_?”

Truthfully, Five does. It may be downright ugly, its species unknown, and its color bold enough to make a blind man see, but Diego won it for _him._ That makes it special enough. 

It’s the best gift Five has ever received. 

Five lifts his chin and hugs the animal to his chest. “It’s got _character._ ” He then smirks up at Diego’s blank face. “Not to mention, you just spent, like, twenty bucks getting your ass kicked by a machine.”

Diego frowns down at him before gathering their drinks and food into his arms, leading them out of the room and toward the ticket line. “It’s the principle of the thing,” he grumbles. 

Five muffles his laughter into the scratchy fur of the animal as he digs the tickets out of his pocket. Once it’s their turn to hand over their tickets, Five does so obediently, the bored-looking teenager ripping the stub off and reciting, “To the left, theater fifteen,” in a monotone voice. 

Their reserved spots are all the way up in the back row, the furthest two seats on the left. The _best_ spot, in Five’s opinion. Once they make it to their seats and settle in, Five is surprised to learn that the chairs not only have the ability to recline but _also_ have built-in seat warmers. While Five knew that some movie theatres had fancy seats like this, he’s never sat in one himself until now. 

“It’s not going to bite you, you know.”

Five looks up from where he’s been staring at the control panel. “I know. I’ve just never sat in one of these before.”

“Seriously?” Diego blinks at him for a moment before grinning, leaning over him to press a button. “You’ve never experienced a movie until your ass has been warmed by the seat.”

Five smiles at that. “Oh, I _bet._ ” Truthfully, the theatre is a bit chilly, even with his coat bundled up along his side. 

Diego settles back into his seat and presses his own button, making it slowly recline backward until he’s almost in a lying position. He then grabs a handful of popcorn and shoves it gracelessly into his mouth before offering the bucket to Five. Five takes it from him and pops a few pieces into his own mouth, sighing contentedly as the buttery food assaults his taste buds. 

The two of them exchange quiet remarks as more people file into the theater and claim their seats. Luckily nobody snags the spot next to Five. He’s used to being surrounded on both sides by his parents and Luther. He doesn’t know how he’d feel with a stranger sitting right next to him. 

Once the lights in the theater dim and movie trailers start to play, he offers the bucket back to Diego, who declines with an exaggerated pat to his abs. Five carefully sets it onto the floor next to him, being mindful to move it a bit to the side so he can raise his footrest and recline his own seat. Once he’s level with Diego, the Latino wiggles his eyebrows at him and folds his hands behind his head, the perfect picture of relaxation. Five rolls his eyes but smiles, hunkering down into his own spot. His eyes droop a little when the heat from the seat kicks in, the warmth relaxing his muscles. 

Five mildly pays attention to the movie as it starts to play, his brain deciding to take the moment to become hyper-aware of Diego’s body so close to his own in the darkened room. He peeks over at Diego from the corner of his eye and notices how there’s no armrest between their seats. The thought makes his insides do some strangle tumbles, knowing that there’s really nothing separating the two of them, that he could just scoot over a _liiiittle_ more if he wanted to. 

So he does, just a little. It’s the world’s smallest shift, but he _swears_ he can smell Diego’s cologne ten times better now. And that’s all he wants, really, to take in the comforting scent. It only makes sense to move closer to achieve his wish.

_Liar,_ his inner voice whispers, making him frown. Ok, so maybe he wants to move closer just for the sake of _being_ closer. Is that really so awful? 

Again, he gives another tiny shift of his body, the distance between Five’s arm and Diego’s side growing smaller. 

_At this rate, you might touch him before Christmas!_

Five ignores the voice and sighs to himself, suddenly feeling weird about the entire thing. Diego was nice enough to take him out to eat _and_ to a movie, and here Five is being all creepy.

_...yeah, you’re practically ripping his clothes off,_ a sarcastic voice sounding suspiciously like Klaus chimes in. Five even swivels his neck to look at the seat next to him, having a bizarre thought that maybe Klaus had followed them there. Seeing nothing but an empty seat, he turns his attention back to the movie, vowing to sit still and behave for the rest of it. 

Diego huffs out a small laugh, causing Five to look over at him. Suddenly, without warning, Diego removes an arm from behind his head and snakes it beneath Five’s back, pulling him flush against his side. He then rolls his wrist upward, causing Five’s body to curl into Diego, forcing him to either smoosh his face awkwardly into Diego’s armpit or to rest his cheek on his chest. He quickly chooses cheek-to-chest and absolutely _melts_ when Diego starts rubbing his back. 

“If you wanted to cuddle, all you had to do was ask,” Diego murmurs. 

Five rests a hand on Diego’s left pec and lifts his eyes to look at his face. All he finds there is a genuine smile, no signs of teasing to be found. Five gives back a small smile of his own, suddenly feeling too shy to respond. Instead, he sighs contently and relaxes once more, sinking into Diego’s warmth. 

It’s nowhere near as overwhelming as he thought it would be, the feel of Diego’s body against his own more of a comfort than something to be hyper-aware of. The sweater beneath his cheek is soft and smells of detergent, reminding him of his mother folding laundry in the kitchen on Sunday mornings, an apron tied around her waist as she tries to simultaneously bake a dozen cookies. Five’s thoughts suddenly conjure an image of Diego wearing an apron and nothing else as he waves a spatula around in the air and goes on a rant about unethical psychology experiments. 

_Jesus, get a grip,_ he thinks to himself. _He lets you touch his chest_ once _and you’re already picturing him naked?_

Klaus would be proud. 

Shooing the thoughts from his mind for good, Five refocuses his attention on the movie. He’s able to pay attention for a good ten minutes before his eyes start to droop, the combination of heat radiating off of Diego and the feel of his hand on Five’s back lulling him into a sleepy state. Five tries his best to keep his eyes open, pinching them shut before opening them really wide in hopes to wake up a bit. A sip of his slushie might help, or even the action of chewing a handful of popcorn, but he’s too comfortable curled into Diego’s side. It’s warm and the hand rubbing his back is soothing. He doesn’t want to move in fear of making it stop altogether. 

He fights to keep his eyes open as long as possible, but eventually he loses the battle, eyes slipping shut as sleep claims him. 

~~~

Five glares out the windshield, ignoring Diego’s hoots of laughter. Five is slowly losing his patience with him, seriously debating if freezing his ass off would be worth walking back to his dorm.

“I, I just can’t believe you f-fell asleep,” Diego laughs, wiping a tear out of his eye before starting the car. 

Five sighs and clutches the stuffed animal-- _Delores_ \--to his chest. So much for his walking idea. 

“I fucking thought you were waiting for an end credit scene and _that’s_ why you didn’t get up. Instead, you were taking a snooze on my chest. I’m sorry, Five, but that shit’s hilarious!” Diego chuckles, the laughter dying down as he tries to contain himself. He then looks over at Five with an amused expression, waiting for him to say something about the oh-so _hilarious_ situation. 

Five grits his teeth and breathes out through his nose, more than a little cranky from having been awoken from a nap. He knows Diego doesn’t mean anything by it. In fact, when he’d first shaken Five awake, he’d cooed at him and helped him get his sleepy limbs into the arms of his jacket. It wasn’t until they were out of the theater that the situation had caught up to Diego, causing him to snort blue slushie out of his nose and draw unnecessary attention with his laughter. So, if he thinks Five is going to further add to the situation, he’s dead wrong. 

...Or is he?

Suddenly, an idea forms in Five’s mind. 

He turns toward Diego and flashes him his most innocent smile, batting his eyelashes as he rests a hand on Diego’s bicep. He sees the way the humor fades from Diego's face, his eyes dropping to where Five’s dimple has surely come out to play. Encouraged, Five leans closer and looks up through his lashes, all but purring, “But you're so _strong_ and comfortable, Diego. How was little ole’ me supposed to resist?”

Diego swallows thickly, his pupils blown wide. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, managing to get out one, solid syllable before his voice cracks like he’s going through puberty a second time. Five holds back a bark of laughter as Diego tries to clear his throat, pulling his hand back into his own lap in case the touch is short-circuiting Diego’s brain. 

Diego eventually gets his voice under control and looks Five in the eyes as he murmurs, “You’re a little shit, you know that?” 

“So I’ve been told,” Five replies smugly. 

Diego huffs out a laugh, adding, “God, you’re fucking cute.” 

Five blushes heavily at that, the adoration in Diego’s voice throwing him off his little game. 

Diego clears his throat once more as he backs out of the parking spot, adding, “But, like, for real? That was hot as hell, with the big eyes and the _voice_ and the t-touching.” 

Five looks out his window and smiles in satisfaction. He can dish out teasing just as well as Diego can, if not better. Either way, he’s definitely won this round. 

~~~

It’s almost ten when Diego pulls into the parking lot. Five is just as sleepy as he was in the movie theatre, the only things keeping him from nodding off on the ride back being the radio and Diego’s terrible off-key rendition of _every_ song that played. Five likes Diego, _really,_ but his singing is god-awful.

“You with me, sleeping beauty?” Diego asks, putting the car in park. 

God, Five is never going to live that down. 

“Yes, Diego,” he responds, unbuckling his seat belt. He peeks at Diego from the corner of his eye, suddenly feeling shy. What does one even say after a date? _Thanks, I had fun? Call me sometime?_ They both seem so cliché and impersonal that Five would rather choke on a goldfish than say either. Instead, he swallows and faces Diego, who’s only visible because of the street lamp next to the car. “Thanks for tonight. It was… the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

“Yeah?” Diego asks. He rests an arm along the back of Five’s seat and turns toward him, giving him his full attention. “Even though you were asleep for half of it?”

Five can’t help but smile at that. “Yes, Diego. I had fun _and_ I got a nap.” 

Diego waggles his eyebrows, lowering his voice seductively as he says, “I can think of a dozen _other_ fun things that could put you to sleep _real_ easy.”

“Can you go a single day without making a sex joke?”

“Hey, take me or leave me, baby. You know you like me.”

Five’s mouth twitches in amusement. “You certainly have… _endearing_ qualities.” 

“Well shit,” Diego says, placing his hand over his heart to feign shock. “Did you just, dare I say, give me a compliment? I better write this down in my diary.” 

Five laughs and gives his arm a light shove. Diego looks delighted at the contact, making Five’s heart flutter. Five is surprised to realize that he doesn’t want to get out of the car, doesn’t quite want to leave Diego yet. He likes spending time with Diego and, better yet, he doesn’t feel like he needs to keep his guard up around him. Diego now knows who he is and the life he’s had. He doesn’t need to hide that part of himself anymore. Better yet, Diego doesn’t treat him with kid gloves. Even his _parents_ had done that when Five first came to live with them. Though, in their defense, they had probably thought Five was going to be all kinds of fucked up. Granted, he kind of _had_ been, but that was a story for another day…

Five wracks his brain for something, _anything_ to draw out their time together just a little longer. Diego, the absolute _genius,_ beats him to it. 

“I should probably walk you to your dorm. There’s a lot of weirdos out at night.”

“Mm,” Five hums, relieved. “If you play your cards right, I just might let you hold my hand.”

Diego grins. “Oooh, kinky.” 

The two of them proceed to fumble their way out of the car, Diego refusing to walk any further until Five’s hand is clasped tightly in his, fingers intertwined. Five is slightly amused by the slow pace that Diego sets, making him think that perhaps the older man doesn’t want the night to end either. 

“So,” Diego says, his breath releasing small puffs of clouds into the chilly air. “You really had a good time?” 

Five hugs Delores to his chest with his free arm and nods. “I did, and I’d--” Five swallows hard, pushing past the nerves chewing away at his indies. “I’d like to do it again sometime.” 

“Yeah?” Diego asks, sounds genuinely surprised. “I mean, _great_! That’s great! I was really afraid that I’d scare you off or scar you for life.”

Five turns to face him as they stop in front of his dorm, murmuring in a low voice, “I think Reginald scarred me enough for one lifetime.” 

Diego huffs out a laugh at that, using his free hand to gently brush a strand of hair out of Five’s eyes. His voice is low and gravelly when he speaks again. “Well, if you have any date ideas on that list of yours that you’re dying to try, let me know.”

Five rolls his eyes. “I don’t _have_ a list… But if I think of anything, I’ll let you know.” 

Diego smiles, eyes soft, even in the darkness. “You do that.” He then grabs the door handle and swings it open, propping it there with the toe of his black boot. “Text me tomorrow?” 

“Do I really have a choice? You’ll just spam me with memes until I respond either way.” 

“Atta boy!” Diego gives Five’s hand one last squeeze before reluctantly dropping it, the grazing of their fingertips sending a tingle down Five’s spine. “G’night, doll.” 

Five smiles up at him once more. If he were a braver man, he’d rest his hands on Diego’s broad shoulders, lift himself up on his tiptoes, and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, _maybe_ even his lips. He’d probably melt into it after the initial shock, wrap his arms around Diego’s neck and let the older man take over, let himself be _vulnerable._

But he’s not that brave yet. Maybe one day, but not right now. 

Instead, he nods at him and says, “Good night, Diego,” before walking through the open door. Once inside, he casts a small glance backward. Diego gives him one last smile and a wink before heading back to his car. 

Five’s hand has never felt so cold and empty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading!!  
> Next Update: March 27th


End file.
